Cops and Crisis
by BonJovy12
Summary: A new class of ZPD recruits is fresh out of the academy, Wilde is top of the class, and the five others want to keep their cool in the big city while everything around them wants them to crack. (This thing has some up there violince and language, you have been warned)
1. The Academy

_Welcome everyone, new story line entirely now. Let's see where the magical thought express takes us today! - The Author_

**_I do not own any characters or products mentioned, all credit to their original creators. Let's stop the lawsuits right now because I don't have the money to pay em!_**

**Cops And Crisis Chapter 1**

So this is the infamous ZPD Academy. I look look at the building, grinning. I'm glad I have made it this far, and I hope I will come out of this with the same amount of limbs I went in with. I glance to my left, seeing two other recruits taking in the building along with me, a red fox, who I recognized from somewhere, but couldn't remember, and a tigress, hugging who I presume to be her parents.

"So," I say to my friend nearest me. "You think I can survive six months of what has been described to be hell on earth?"

"Ehhhhhhh.. I'll be honest, You're mentally prepared, but boy, this is gonna suck." He replies, patting my stomach to emphasize a point.

"How many recruits are in my class again?"

"Six... You, the red fox over there... and four other poor souls."

I sigh, picking up my bag and walking towards the polar bear that has been watching us since we got here.

"Seya buddy, call me if you need moral support!" I hear behind me, glancing over my shoulder to see Shawn walking away.

_Ya know, this may not be that bad, I'm not in the worst of shape, and hopefully I can put up with the constant stress. _I dismiss my thoughts as I approach the bear, who is grinning.

"Morning recruit, who are you?"

"Robertson Ma'am."

"Robertson... You're bunked with White."

"Who's white if I may ask?"

"Australian, Dingo."

"Alright, so do I wait here until the rest of them show up orrrrrrr..."

"Wait here, officially your my problem beginning at seven, and it's only six thirty."

I turn to my phone, deciding to flick through my phone to let the time pass. It goes quicker then I expected, with the five others eventually strolling up.

_Alrighty... Dingo, tigress, red fox, doe red deer, and a grizzly bear. The digio is White, so I wonder wh-_

"Alright princesses! It's seven, and you are officially my problem now! Ground rules. One, read the handbook, the details and many many regulations of your chosen profession are in there. Two, you listen to me, I expect you to call me Ma'am when addressing me! Three, you can tap out at any point, if you want out come to me and you can get out, zero questions asked. Four, I don't give a rats ass who you like or hate, if I get the hint that anyone here is being targeted, it will be delt with. Clear?!" The polar bear roars, interupting my thoughts.

A short response of the recruits of Yes ma'am's comes to which she smiles and continues.

"Alright, I'm Ursula, you will address me as ma'am, and I will call you by your last names. You may notice this is a small class. That is due to some budget cuts, and the fact that Precinct one needs exactly six officers. As long as all of you pass your training, you will all be assigned to Precinct one. Alright, introduce yourselves."

I quickly glance around, seeing a sly grin form on the fox's face. _Oh boy one of these, we are going to get along great._

"Hello all, I am the one and the only Nicolas Wilde, the saivor of the city." He says giving a bow.

The rest of the recruits look at each other with puzzled faces, while I just stand there and chuckle, now remembering exactly where I remember the fox from.

"Anyways, on from him, I'm Logan, Logan White, just moved 'ere from 'straya, and I'm looking to get back to work!" The dingo says, quite excited.

"Hi, I'm Jessica." The tigress mumbles quickly.

"Hi, I'm Sydney, I somewhat didn't expect to be here today." The doe exclaims, I chuckle at her enthusiasm.

"Yo, I'm Ethan." The grizzly says, giving a wave.

"Well guess that leaves me. Hi, I'm Cameron, recently moved here, decided to join the police force cause that's what I was looking about doing before I moved here." I inform, looking around at the faces.

"Alright, room-mates... Robertson and White, Wilde and Murphy, Fowler and Manning." Ursula says, reading off of the list." You have the night to get acquainted to your bunks, I expect all of you on the field at 7:15 sharp."

After another round of 'Yes Ma'am's' we all head off towards the bunks, chatting about what we're doing.

"Who here's finished college or university?" White asks, to which I, Manning, and Fowler respond.

"What you major in?"

"I majored in astrophysics, but now I realize that probably wasn't the best idea." Sydney says, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Too many people doing the same thing?" I ask, taking a bite out of a granola bar. "I did civil, chemical, and then nuclear engineering out of the Royal Military College, did four years and was honourably discharged."

"Nuclear engineering?" Murphy inquires.

"Figured I'd get a job working one of the nuclear power plants somewhere in North America, theeen I found out you need a physics degree."

"Man you would be overworked at that point, anyways, I went through medical school, got a licence to practice." Jessica comments.

"Okay I got my nicknames for the three of you." Nick says, grinning smugly. "Doc, Engi, and Medic."

"Couuuuld be worse." I inform, seeing the looks of annoyance on the girls faces.

They silently agree before ducking into the first bunk. _Man, I'm loving this Nick guy, we are going to get along well._

"I'll bid you two adeu." I say as I swing into my bunk room.

"Alright White, time for the decision that will decide how we sleep for the next six months." I say dropping my bag and spinning around. "Top or bottom bunk?"

Twenty minutes later I'm seated in one of the common areas. Across from me is White and a chessboard, and flanking us are the other four recruits.

"Aaaand Check." I say, moving my bishop to check him.

_Man he's scanning that board for a way out so bad, too bad he doesn't know I win the chess championship three years in a row._

"Fuck, top bunks yours." He says, conceding. "I almost fucking checked you, if I had only moved my knight to block that escape." He laments, as I fist pump.

"Alright where are the showers, I want at least eight hours of sleep for tomorrow." I ask, leaning back forwards in my chair.

"Yea bad news bub." Wilde says, patting me on the shoulder. "They're unisex."

I watch looks of embarrassment creep across the others face.

"What? Afraid you'll walk in and see me in all my glory?" I retort, standing and walking off towards the showers.

_Oh boy this is gonna be a fun six months._ I chuckle at my thoughts, grabbing a towel from my bag and strolling into the shower complex. _Alright, one room with max twenty shower heads. _I notice that there are different sized showers for different sized mammals, but otherwise everyone in the room could see everyone else.

I turn a shower on, tossing my towel on a small shelf, feeling slightly self conscious even though there was nobody else in the room. I kick off my shorts and step under the water, quickly relaizing that it wasn't all that bad. _How fucking long has it been since I've had a proper hot shower, probably since I was at the airport hotel in Toronto._

"Evening Engi." I hear Nick comment as he walks in.

"What you need Slick?" I ask, applying a name that his smirk deserves.

"I see you are a man of nicknames as well." He replies as I hear another shower turn on.

"It's one of my many many talents." I say, looking over my shoulder to find Jessica showering, turning further I find Nick standing by the door, wearing a blindfold. "And I presume you are talented at subversion? Considering I thought you were showering and not Jessica."

"As it is." He says, strolling out. I hear a yelp as I presume he walked into a wall.

"You know, I think we will all get along just fine." Jessica comments.

"Yep, issue is, I'm competitive, I'm aiming for the best in the class, maybe break a few records while I'm at it."

"Oh good luck with that buddy."

_Yep, this is gonna be great._

The next few weeks are a continuous repeat of the days before, the time ticking bye as the twenty mile runs, obsticle course failures and 'Yer Dead' s all melt together.

\- Week 5, Monday -

I sit up in my bunk, stretching and breathing in the pleasant smell of car fresheners that Logan had 'borrowed' from an abandoned car. I was thankful that he did, as the fresheners helped when we missed showers due to longer then expected classes.

I hop off the bunk, grabbing a towel and my toothbrush as I pass the desk we have in our shared room. I give Logan a slight kick to wake him up, to which he mumbles a few curses. We had agreed that the first to wake up was to wake up the second, and due to Logan being known to study late into the night where as I'd crash into bed as soon a possible and study during breaks throughout the day, meant I was up first 99% of the time.

I exit the bunk room, closing the door behind me as I begin to brush my teeth on my way to the showers, I already hear them running, wondering who could be using the showers at this time, as I had never found myself being second to the showers in my time here.

I turn into the showers, spitting the toothpaste in my mouth intoa drain before bringing my head back up, finding a steamy sight. Nick - and one of the guest instructors from the day before were in the shower - together - and not in a 'were such good friends we take showers together' way.

I just stand there dumbfounded, continuing to brush my teeth as I watch them. I hear some noise behind me, and soon enough Sydney comes along side me, also stunned by what she's seeing.

"They're just..." She begins, also dumbfounded.

"Going at it?" I suggest, once again spitting into a drain.

"Yea... how long have you been standing here?" She asks, her head slightly tiliting to the side.

"Honestly no clue."

"Turn around and go wait in the lounge for them to clear out?"

I look at my waterproof watch, finding only half an hour till roll call.

"Nah, I mean it's six thirty in the morning and they are in the showers and they expect not to be caught?" I ask rhetorically.

"What's going on gu-y-s..." Ethan begins, falling silent st the display infront of him.

"Yea I'm not waisting time, I need to shower." I decide, walking over to a shower and turning it on.

I hear several other showers turning on, presumably the others following in my footsteps.

\- Week 12, Friday -

"Whoooooo we're halfway there, whooooooooo Sqwidward on a chaiiirrrrr." The intercom plays for about the fiftieth time today. Today was a test of our mental stability, as far as I could tell. We were all lured into a classroom on the upper floor, and the door barricaded behind us.

"Do they think we would have snapped by now?" Nick asks.

"I dunno, considering it's been on repeat for... three hours now, I'd say yea." I respond, looking up from the book I've been reading.

"Maybe this is a test to see if we would snap or find a way out..." Ethan hypotheses.

"What's our the window?"

"Fire escape." Jessica says, looking out the window.

"Huh."

\- Week 15, Friday -

"Yer Dead!" Ursula yells as Nick hits the water below the ice wall, I wince slightly, I may be a built for Arctic conditions, but the water isn't exactly pleasant.

"Robertson! Ready?" Ursula hell's, I give a nod, hoping I don't hit the water, I've beat the entire course already, but today is speed runs, and I was aiming for that record set by Wilde's girlfriend, who he had sworn us to silence about.

"Go!" She yells, as I drop to all fours, charging through the small sandstorm, my eyes focused. I quickly jump, swinging on a 'vine' and landing on my feet, rolling to all fours again as I charge towards the ice wall. I jump, digging my claws into the wall and climb quickly, not giving the ice time to break. I don't waist time, running the gauntlet of the final stretch, dodging objects being thrown at me by the various coaches and trainers. I cross the finish line, coming round and running to the beginning.

"Alright folks, I want there to be a little suspense. HUGHS, DRUMROLL!" Ursula hell's, and the quartermaster of the range pulling out his phone and playing the sound of a dramatic drumroll.

"The record, set by one Judy Hopps is 58 seconds as you all know, and Robertson here just beat it. Whoever guesses closest to it gets to join the coaches as Fowler does the course, and if Fowler gets it, she doesn't get stuff thrown at her."

A variety of guesses come in, but I judge how long I took before speaking. "I did it in 47 seconds."

"Cameron, you may be good, but I doubt you beat the record by 11 seconds." Nick says patting me on the back.

"You're right Wilde, he didn't beat it by 11 seconds. He beat it by 13." Ursula informs, a time of 45 seconds appearing on the clock.

"Whooooooooooo" I celebrate, going to join the coaches.

"And his aim is perfect." Jessica crumbles.

\- Week 19, Sunday -

"Jessica..."

"Yea?"

"Is that Sydney and Ethan streaking across the field?"

"Yep."

"Damn I owe them fifty bucks each."

\- Week 24, Thursday -

"Well, here we are." Ursula says, looking at the six of us. "Man I'm proud of you six. Now for the moment you've been waiting for, the valedictorian!"

Some over enthusiastic cheers from Ethan and Logan in the back sum up the mood.

"The Valedictorian is... Wilde!" Ursula announces, with balloons falling from the ceiling.

"Whoooooo! Who wants to get shitfaced?!"

"We have graduation tomorrow."

"Who wants to get shitfaced _after_ graduation?"

"Whooooooooo!"

\- Week 24, Friday -

I smile, strolling into the parking lot where Shawn is waiting, seated on the hood of his Jeep.

"Congrats Cam! Didn't think you had it in you." He says as I approach, raising his hand for a high five, to which I deliver.

"Alright, you got the change of clothes I asked for?" I ask as he rubs his hand to dull the pain, pointing at the back seat.

"Sweet, were going to a bar owned by one of my classmates friends."

"What's it called?"


	2. The Bar and Station

**Chapter 2**

"The Grog Bog?" Shawn asks, looking at the sign of the bar.

"Owner is Australian, don't question it." I reply, walking up to the door.

"Ids." Asks the bouncer, a rough looking Tasmanian Devil."

Both Shawn and I pull out our drivers licences, to which the Devil just shakes his head no.

"What's wrong with em?" Shawn asks.

"It ain't the ids." The bouncer replies, stepping in front of the door.

"Oh, is it cause I'm a fox!" Shawn yells, rolling his sleeves up.

I look over my shoulder to see White walking up to us, wearing some black cargo pants and a red t-shirt.

I stop Shawn before he swings, watching Logan walk up.

"Hey Cameron, What's the trouble?" He asks, a worried look in his eyes.

"Bouncer says our ids won't get us in." I inform, calming down Shawn.

Logan lets out a chuckle before turning to the bouncer. "Oz, really, You didn't tell them the rules?"

"Nah, thought you would, I was having fun with em." Oz replies, a smile forming on his face.

"Place caters exclusively to government employed personnel, y'know, Police, Fire, Military." Logan says, producing his new Police Badge.

"Ohhhh. I say, pulling out my Badge, while Shawn pulls out his ID, his smiling face with the title 'Trauma Surgon' at Zootopia General Hospital."

"Yer buddy's a doctor? Good to know I know who's patching me up if I get shot." Logan laughs as the door is opened and we walk into the bar.

I take in the sights, the building is old, like 1930s old, on the inside it was wood panneled with what appeared to be redwood, it's clear it was always a bar, with specificity designed alcoves for tables, and a long bar stretching the length of the left side of the building. What first captured my attention was the wall of insignia, three quarters filled it was a wall covered in... insignia, of various government services worldwide. I see everything possible, but the big three are ZPD, ZMS, and ZFD, with the US Air Force, army, and navy directly below.

I let out a low whistle, taking in the sight, Shawn is doing something similar next to me. Logan chuckles.

"My friend is former New Zealand Air Force, decided we needed a bar where we can talk to people that also lived in the service. All the employees are either retired or veterans, Oswald outside is the exception, nobody knows what he did, or what his last name is actually, we got a betting pot over there, whoever gets it out of him gets the money." He points at a large glass drum, same size as a oil drum, half filled with cash of various currencies.

I spy our graduating class over in the corner, everyone seated at a large table, already drinking. I stroll over, plopping down next to Jessica with Shawn pulling a chair up.

"Ey, Engi, was waiting for you to show up!" Nick says, his girlfriend next to him. "Who's yer friend, is it Yer date?" He finishes with a smirk, getting a punch from the rabbit.

"Nah, this is Shawn, Trauma Surgon at ZGH and my roommate." I inform, presenting the grey fox that is Shawn.

"Yo." He simply states, leaning back in his chair.

"So, who's the unknowns to me at this table?" I ask, pointing to several people I don't know.

"Alright, if my memory serves me well..." Nick begins. "This bundle of fur next to me is Judy, the girlfriend that Bogo must not know about and the Tiger next to Jessica is Jared, Jessica's brother.

"Hey, let me guess, Fire department?" I ask, pointing at Jared.

"And you'd guess correct. Let me guess, Jessica dropped some hints?"

"Yea, she said you were emergency services, and your muscles are too big for you to be an EMT."

We go back and forth for a while, I admire the dozens of photos on the walls around us, everything ranging from graduation pictures from the academy, to old black and white photos of military units.

"This place get much traffic from War Veterans?" I ask Logan, who is sipping on a beer.

"Yea, infact, those three over there at the bar." He informs, pointing at a greying wolf, a greying tiger, and a greying bear at the bar. "Second world war vets, but here's the kicker, wolf is German and the other two are British."

"Enemies who became friends?" I ask.

"Story is, the brits were fighter pilots that got shot down over the Channel during the blitz, and the wolf was the sole survivor of a bomber that was shot down, the three of em shared a raft for two days before the winds blew them ashore in France. Rest of the story is standard, German patrol finds three severely dehydrated and injured guys washed ashore on a beach, German broke his leg in the process so he gets sent home cause he can't fly and the brits spend the rest of the war in a POW camp, they reunite after the war, all move to America, and get drinks every friday night."

"How sweet."

"They all told me that for the first thirty minutes they were aiming pistols at one another, all knowing they wouldn't fire due to being waterlogged." Logan laughs into his drink.

I smile, taking a sip of my drink and pointing to another guy at the bar who is talking with a kangaroo.

"Hey, What's the story with that sika deer?"

"Mr. Kamayashi, bombing wave over Port Arthur, shot down, captured, _had to be stopped from killing himself_." Logan says saying the last part while taking a drink.

"That's bushido for you."

"I see you know your history."

"History nerd, specifically World War Two."

I go back to looking at the pictures around me, after another half hour we all decide to head home.

\- Day One -

I may not be intimidated easily, but walking into the first day of your job is real damn nerve racking. I sigh, stepping out of my 1970 Challenger and closing to door behind me, I made sure to arrive two hours early and park it next to the staff entrance. I did the typical Andy first day guy thing to do, go straight to the place I needed to be way too early. This lead to me sitting in the back of the 'bullpen' as I was told it was called, looking at my phone for the next hour and fifty minutes.

I look up from my phone, hearing the door open again, finding White and Murphy walking in and spotting me.

"Who the hell has the kind of money to own a damn 1970 Challenger? The thing is stunning." White laments, seated next to me. All the while I'm grinning internally.

"Hey Cameron, how was your weekend?" Ethan asks, taking a seat.

"It was good actually, I decided to play video games all weekend." I reply honestly.

"Better then what I did, I just waited nervously for today."

I chuckle, slipping my phone into my pocket and sitting up.

"Anyway what are you two hoping for on your first day." I ask, leaning on the table.

"Anything but parking duty, trust me boys, just pray it ain't parking duty." Says a passing timber wolf, who stops to talk to us.

"Was that your first assignment?" Ethan asks.

"Yep, a whole two weeks of it, could be worse, it ain't a desk job. Wolford by the way, Arron Wolford." He says extending a paw for a handshake, to which we all accept.

"Good luck boys, Yer gonna need it." He says, turning and sitting next to tigress, though I notice they sit a little closer together then normal, I rub my forehead wondering how many of these 'secret' couples there are.

I notice a door at the front of the room open, and the Chief wall in, everyone starts banging on the tables, leaving the trio of Ethan, Logan and I confused at the back.

"Alright, Alright, Settle down." The Chief says, looking at a folder he places on the podium infront of him. "I would welcome our new recruits, being Wilde, Robertson, Murphy, White, Manning, and Fowler, who are all expected to do great, but don't really care." He announces with a smirk, earning some chuckles from around the room. "Alright. Wolford, Fangmeyer, undercover in Savanna Centeral, suspected drug dealer near the train station. Delgado, Grizzoli, someone has been breaking into shipping containers down at the docks, deal with them. McHorn, Rhinowitz, suspected fight club in the Rainforest District, find it and survey. Francine, Higgins, string of convenience store robberies in the Medowlands, catch the robbers. Robertson, White, with Wolford and Fangmeyer. Murphy, with Delgado and Grizzoli, Manning, Fowler, with Francine and Huggins. Hopps and Wilde, Parking Duty.

Everyone cringes at the final assignment, and the two look crushed.

"Kidding, street racer downtown, shut them down." He says with a smirk, everyone breathing a sigh of relief for the two.

"Dear god, I almost had a heart attack." I hear Nick say as he strolls by.

I wander out to the parking lot, finding several officers around my Challenger. "No, it can't be Wilde's, he's too smug to not tell anyone about it." One of the officers says as I pass by.

"If you scratch her, you pay triple what it costs to repair." I comment, catching the gaze of several officers.

"Oh so it's Robertson's, Yea that I can live with." I hear before I hop in the drivers seat of a cruiser. "Wolford, you lead the way, and tell me where to go." I say over the radio, watching their cruiser pull out infront of me.

I follow the cruiser through the streets, eventually finding myself parked infront of the train station, watching Wolford and Fangmeyer try and bait out the drug dealer.

"You'd think they'd come out and ask if I wanted to buy some crack." Fangmeyer comments over the radio.

"I know right, it's almost like they don't want to be caught." I reply, seeing Wolford laugh in the distance, which he plays off as talking on the phone.

Twenty minutes later White and I resorted to playing eye spy, whiles Wolford and Fangmeyer were pretending to be business mammals.

"Eye spy something with my little eye, something that is green." White says as I watch the street.

"Is it the grass?"

"No."

"Is it the traffic light?"

"No."

"Is it the shirt that Wolford is wearing?"

"Yes."

"Oh dear god something happen." I ask aloud, leaning back into my seat.

Just then a red car zooms by, with a ZPD cruiser right behind it.

"Z018 to Z721 you need backup with that?" White asks over the radio, spying the number on the cruiser.

"No, they're pulling over, we're two blocks West if we need backup." Comes Nick's reply over the radio.

I sigh, letting my head fall forward onto my chest. I then look back at Wolford, who is talking with a sheep.

"Ohhh I think we got a biter." I say, looking at them closer.

Wolford and the sheep appear to be talking in hushed tones, and eventually saunter off towards an alley across the street.

"Man, we've only been here an hour." White says, picking the radio back up. "Fangmeyer, you watching Wolford, we don't have eyes on him."

"I have eyes, be ready to mov- AND He sucker punched Wolford, I got Wolford you go after the sheep!" She commands, I see the sheep run out of the alley, running for the subway.

I jump out of the cruiser, running after the sheep, by the time I make it across the street, he's already going down the stairs into the subway. I rub to the stairs, hollering for people to make a hole, reaching the bottom to find a filled platform, but to my advantage there's only one way out.

"Robertson to Fangmeyer, hows Wolford?" I say into my radio, keeping my hand on my taser.

"We're headed your way, punch only stunned him." I get my reply, "Is the suspect in cuffs?"

"Negative, he's hiding in a crowd, gonna need backup." I reply, scanning the crowd and finding only one sheep, towards the front of the group near the far end. After about twenty seconds, I get my backup, and the four of up begin to close in on the sheep.

"Sheep wearing the grey hoodie, put your hands up and get on your knees!" Fangmeyer announces, the crowd backing off as we make a semi-circle around the sheep.

The sheep turns around in a panic, finding two tasers, a tranquilizer pistol and a balistic pistol aimed at them.

He looks down the tracks before jumping backwards, standing on the tracks and waiting for a train.

I look to my right and see a train no more then three hundred meters down the line.

"SIR GET OFF THE TRACKS!" Wolford orders, still aiming at the sheep.

Thinking fast, I holster my taser and jump down with the sheep, grabbing him and forcing him to the ground, before hitting the deck myself just before the train passes over us. I unholster my taser, putting it to the sheep.

"You try something funny before this train moves and I'll shock your ass. Got it?" I ask sarcastically, to which the sheep nods slowly.

After about thirty seconds the train moves along and I haul the sheep to his feet, tossing him up to the others. White puts the guy in cuffs and begins reading him his rights as Wolford and Fangmeyer help me up.

"Great thinking." Fangmeyer says, keeping me a bit back from her.

"I'm covered in grimy dirt ain't I?" I ask rhetorically, looking down to find myself dirtier then anything.

"Yeeep, which means you're sitting in the back while Fangmeyer drives, and I'll go with White." Wolford informs, going to follow Logan.

"Here." Says a subway worker, handing me a towel, which I happily accept, wiping off my face before handing it back.

"So what gave you the idea to jump down there?" Fangmeyer asks.

"Officer Fangmeyer, honestly, I got no idea." I reply, looking at the few looks I am getting.

"If the Chief ain't around, call me Laura." She informs, opening the back seat of the cruiser for me.

"Laura Fangmeyer and Arron Wolford, two first names down, about a dozen to go." I reply, sliding over to the passenger side of the cruiser.

"Yeaaaaa..."She says somewhat weirdly.

"Yea, you can tell I know?" I ask.

"How'd you figure it out?" She inquires as we pull away from the train station.

"The way you two sat together in the bullpen, also the fact your tails were wrapping around each other's."

"You going to tell Bogo?"

"I haven't told on Hopps and Wilde yet."

"Wait what?"

"Ahhhh shit."

"Since when?"

"I figured it out when my academy class caught them going at it in the showers."

"Dammmmmn."

After the rest of the short drive she lets me out of the back.

"You better not tell anyone. Nick swore the class to secrecy." I inform, opening the staff enterance.

"Yea, that ain't going to be an issue." She says, pointing into the break room, where the pair are lip locked.

"The Chief has cameras all over the station right?" I ask.

"Yep, he's probably watching them right now, let's go ask Clawhouser." She says, walking over to the welcome desk with me in tow.

"Hey Ben, you seen the show?" She asks the cheetah st the desk.

"Yep, absolute lip lock. Almost as good as you and Arron in the storage closet." He says with a smug grin.

"How many people know?" Fangmeyer asks dejected.

"Prettty much everyone. Chief included."

"Wonder why he hasn't talked to us about it."

"Probably because he doesn't care as long as it doesn't affect your work."

"Makes sense." I input.

"He- wow what happened to you?" Ben asks.

"Subway, suspect on the tracks, oncoming train." I abbreviate.

"Showers are over there." He points down a hall.

"Thank you."

——————————————————————————

_And the drama begins, what will happen to our daring hero, will he rise above the common officer, or will he join them and become as effective as them?_

_We all know which one will happen._


	3. The Job

**Chapter 3**

\- Day Four -

"So, you think he's gonna do it?" Logan asks, nodding at a teenage hyena who clearly had a concealed pistol, walking up to the counter of the convenience store.

"Looks like he's thinking about ittttt..." I trail off, judging the kids shakey exterior. "He's gonna do it." I consider, drawing my pistol and approaching the individual, while Logan has his taser.

"Gimme all your money!" The kid commanded the clerk, fear evident in his voice.

"ZPD, Put the gun on the counter and take a step back!" I command, keeping my aim low, hoping if the kid forces my hand Logan tazes him first.

The kid looks over his shoulder, finding two ZPD officers aiming at him. I look at the fear in his eyes and hope he makes the rational decision. Instead, he jumps the counter and puts the gun to the teenage leopard behind the counter.

"God damnit kid! You just made it ten times worse!" I yell, taking a few steps back while Logan radios it in, swaping his taser for his sidearm.

"I want a car ride! To the airport!" He yells, jabbing the gun into the clerk's neck.

_Fucking movies, giving them unrealistic expectations!_ "I'll see what I can do!" I look over at Logan, seeing him aiming at the kid, I holster my weapon and come into plain view.

"Kid, I want you to take second to think about what you are doing." I begin as I hear tires screech outside. "Right now if you lower the gun it'll just be attempted robbery, if you do something... unwise, it will be a lot worse." I inform, not wanting to use the word 'stupid'.

I look him dead in the eye, judging his eye movements. _His eyes are darting between me and Logan, no not me, behind me... he's looking for a way out._ "What's your name?" I ask, going to the movie tactic, slowly inching my way towards the counter

"Why do you need to know that?!" He snarls.

"I don't think calling you 'kid' for prolonged periods of time would be good for either of us." I inform, now about five feet from the counter.

Behind me I hear the door open, and two sets of feet come inside, I glance at a mirror in the corner of the store to find Nick and Judy... yea it was Judy had arrived, Nick being armed with a tranquilizer gun and Judy with a pistol._ Three feet, one more and I can go for the gun._

"Kid, do the right thing." I say, my hands raised defensively and I'm about to go for the-

***BANG*** The kid fires his gun through the clerk's neck.

***BANG* **One of my comrades responds by putting a bullet in the kid's shoulder.

"FUCKING HELL!" I yell, jumping the counter and kicking the kid's gun out of his reach.

I turn to the clerk, bleeding profusely. I put my hands around their neck, to a normal person it'd appear I'm choking them, but I'm just applying enough pressure to stop major bleeding. "Listen, listen, blink once if you can breathe normally, rapidly if you can't!" I command, the clerk blinking once. "Alright, now blink once if the wound is on the front of your neck, twice if it's the center, and three times if it's the back, of you can't tell, blink rapidly. I get one blink in return. "Alright, good news, he shot far enough forward that he didn't hit anything major, probably just took the skin off. Now stay calm, if you suddenly can't breathe, blink rapidly okay?"

I feel a pat on my back, I turn to find Judy. "Shooter is stable and in cuffs, EMS is five minutes out.

I turn back to the clerk, continuing with Judy. "According to the clerk, shot is in the front of her neck and she can breathe, I'm hoping it just took the skin. I'm applying enough pressure that blood can't escape rapidly."

"Alright I'll get that to the EMS." I hear.

I keep the clerk calm by talking to her, simple yes or no questions to keep her awake.

"One blink means you like baseball, two means you like basketball."

One blink.

"Nice, blink one eye if your favourite team has won the series in the past decade."

No blink.

"Blue Jays?"

One blink.

"Nice, that's my hometown, you know they have a good shot at winning this year, especially after the raptors just won the championship!" I explain, as I hear the store's door open and close again.

"EMS is Here." Judy informs. A zebra moves past me, before crouching opposite the victim.

"So through the front of the neck and you can breathe?"

One blink.

"That means yes." I inform.

"Let me guess, one blink is yes, two is no?" The zebra asks.

One blink.

"Alright, officer keep your hands there, seeing as it's worked so far, let's not fix what ain't broken. I'm going to slide this backboard underneath you, and we're going to move you to the ambulance. Officer you're coming with us, let's not risk anything till we get to the hospital."

"Fine by me... chocolate or vanilla ice cream?"

Two blinks.

"Ah we were agreeing on so many things."

"I see you know how to deal with shock." The medic notices as I hear another mammal come up behind me.

"Not really, I just know to keep em awake and keep them aware."

"Alright were going to move them to the stretcher, you ready?"

One blink.

"One three. One. Two. Three."

The medics lift in unison, I keep my grip on the clerk's neck, moving with the medics.

"Alright, let's move!"

We swiftly got into the ambulance, and I kept asking yes or no questions. The ride wasn't overly dramatic, with the clerk's vitals elevated but not dangerous, and the view out the window just buildings going by, nothing much.

"So your first reaction after seeing someone being shot in the neck is to choke them?" The second medic asks.

"Seeing as I'm currently keeping the bleeding to a minimum, I'd say it was a good reaction." I reply with a bit of venom.

"I'm not saying it was the wrong decision, it just wouldn't be my first reaction." He continues, choosing his words carefully.

The next few miles were a repeat of the last few, Yes or no questions, blurred buildings passing by, elevated but not dangerous vitals.

We pulled into the emergency bay quite soon after that, the ambulance coming to a halt and the rear doors opening.

"Alright, so shot through the front of the neck, no trouble breathing?" A friendly voice from a grey fox says.

"Oh hey Shawn." I say unimportantly.

"Hey Cameron, Alright, I have some bandages here, so we're going to swap your paws for them alright?" He says, making everyone aware. "Once you let go Cameron, jump out of the ambulance because I'm going to need to be next to her."

I nod to confirm.

"Alright, three, two, one, and go!" He counts, I quickly but carefully remove my paws, jumping out of the ambulance, and Shawn moves next to the leopard, tightly wrapping her neck with a long stretch of gauze.

I look at my hands to find them somewhat dripping with blood, I keep back as they quickly remove the patient from the ambulance and whisk them into the ER.

Behind me I hear footsteps and I find White walking next to the hyena who is with two paramedics on a stretcher, and a detective behind them.

"Hey guys." I say nonchalantly, as if I was just seated in the bullpen.

"Alright, so were gonna need your report." The detective says, looking me up and down.

"Yea, let's go inside, I need to wash my hands." I say, holding up my blood covered hands as an example.

We stroll into the ER, several mammals seated around the room, most of them appear to either be holding ice packs somewhere or just look sick.

I stroll over to the counter, and get myself pointed towards the nearest sink, which happens to be near the operating rooms, where the leopard clerk is.

I slather my hands in soap as Logan turns on the tap for me, allowing me to keep the blood off of everything. I wash my hands completely, giving my report as I clean, before wiping them on White's back, to which he grumbles some profanities.

"Thank you officer." The detective nods, walking down the hall, almost running into Shawn as he comes out of a door, strolling over to us, moving past me to get at the sink.

"You were right, shot so far forward that it just took the skin with it. She'll be feeling it for a while but she'll be fine." Shawn informs as I give him some soap.

"Is what about our shooter?" Logan asks, popping some gum into his mouth.

"Bullet hit his shoulder, shattered his collarbone, nicked the artery, he'll have permanent damage." Shawn informs, accepting a towel from me. "He'll be released by the end of the week, till then he's my issue."

"Thanks buddy, owe you a drink."

"I'll put it on Cameron's tab." Shawn retorts, a sly glint in his eyes that I've come to recognize.

"Hey now, last time you put it on my tab I got chased out of the place!" I interrupt, hoping to stop the thought train.

"Oh yeaaaa... Yea I remember that." Shawn says, stroking his chin.

I roll my eyes, walking towards the door.

-0-

"Seya Cameron." I say over my shoulder, getting flipped of as the reply. I laugh it off, Cameron and I have been friends since High School, and I missed his antics when he moved for college.

I toss the towel I was using into a hamper, strolling down the hall. I observe the signs as I go, several of the ER rooms having yellow flags on them, a sign of an infection. Sighing, I open a door, walking behind the ER reception, taking a seat at a desk.

"Tired already? It's only noon." The receptionist, a panda by the name of Alice asks sarcastically.

"Yea, when you have three emergency surgeries before noon, and a nasty case of the flu going around."

"Such is the life of an ER Doctor."

"Har-de-har, Anyways, any cases for me?" I ask, standing up and walking over to the counter.

"Kid who got hit by a car while jaywalking." Alice informs, tossing a file over her shoulder, which I catch on my way to the door.

I sigh, flipping through the file, happily finding that the injuries aren't life-threatening and that I'm just clearing them for release. I look up from the file, ducking down the right hall and then into the room listed on the file.

I find a teenage cheetah seated on the exam table, a cast already on his leg. A middle-aged cheetah in a chair next to the table.

"Hello Mr..." I begin, checking the form to be sure, "Spracy."

"Hey doc..." The kid replies, sounding like he's on some nice painkillers.

"Alright, just here to clear you to leave." I say with a grin.

"So all he did was break his leg?" The other cheetah asks,

"Yep, simple transverse tibula break, should fully heal in six to eight months. Keep weight off it, check in with a doctor as told, and take any medication as prescribed, you're lucky cause this is one of the nicest ways to break a bone."

"So he can go back to work immediately?" The parent asks.

"What's your job?" I ask the kid.

"Retail, I work accounting."

"As long as you move using the crutches, don't put weight on the leg, and take your medications you are good to work. Not this week though, gonna have to call in till at least Thursday."

I hear a disappointed sigh as I leave the room, checking my watch to find that my break had started. I smile, flicking my ear to stop an itch as I wander past the ER counter, handing the file to Alice as I pass and continue down the hall, ducking into the break room.

"Hey Shawn, haven't seen you since Thursday." I look up, finding the newest nurse under my command, a lion named Pulizo (Pu - lee - zoh) who is mid sip of the water in his ramen.

"Hey Ivy, Friday I was at my friends graduation, and then all weekend I was dealing with his hangover. Great way to spend my days off eh?" I smirk, inserting a few coins into the ramen machine, imputing what I want.

"Yea I just got in, was about to go see what my first task of the day was."

"Yea, Bryson moved me to the night shift, so I get 6 PM to 4 AM effective tomorrow." I complain as I hear the ramen machine working in the background.

"You too? Man I thought that bison had it in for me." Ethan chuckles as I retreieve my dispensed meal, grabbing a spoon before going to sit with him.

"So how's the mystery date?" I ask, inquiring into a date he had over the weekend, to which he gave zero inquiry as to who it was with.

"I will give you one hint if you give my bedpan duty to Emma." He says, looking around to see if anyone else was eves dropping.

"Done." I snap, almost too quickly.

"Well he's in the Z-" he begins, being cut off by an ambulance screeching to a halt outside.

I grumble as I down the rest of my ramen, scrambling out the door and towards the ER, Pulezo hot on my heels. There were always a few calls that came without warning, though we usually had plenty warning before they came in.

I run out the door, coming to a hault infront of a gruesome sight. What barely could be described as a living being, about the size of a rabbit, but they were covered in fresh and dried blood, their limbs twisted at various angles, bone sticking out of several joints.

"They're alive?" I ask, barely holding in the ramen I just ate, seeing one of the most horrendous sights I have seen in my career.

"Found by sanitation workers in a garbage bag, I have no clue wha-" The EMT begins, being cut off by the telltale sound of a flatline.

"IVY! Defib!" I yell over my shoulder, ushering the cart and medics inside, directly towards one of the operating rooms.

We stop short of the OR, Ivy catching up with the defib.

Ivy attaches the electrodes to where he thinks the heart would be.

_"Stand clear of the patient!"_

One jolt.

_Unsuccessful, stand clear of the patient!_

Second jolt.

_Unsuccessful, upping dose, stand clear of the patient!_

Third jolt.

_Unsuccessful, please hit the start button if you wish to continue._

I hit the button, realizing it's probably futile.

_Stand clear of the patient._

Jolt.

_Unsuccessful, stand clear of the patient!_

"1:22 PM." I consede.

_Unsuccessful, stand clear of the patient!_

I hear someone turn off the defib behind me as a slight rage begins to boil up deep inside me. _Who the living fuck could do something so cruel?! _I let my emotions take the better of me as I punch the wall infront of me, leaving a fist sized hole in the drywall.

I feel a slight prick on the back of my neck, so I reach around to find a tranquilizer dart. _Wait, why is there a tranquilizer dart in my neck? And why is the floor coming towards me so-_

"NOT THE FACE!" I yell, rocketing up to a seated position. I look around, finding Nick and Judy at the opposite end of the room, backs against the wall, both aiming tranquilizer pistols at me. I look down, finding myself on the couch in the break room.

"You good Silver?" Nick asks, easing himself back into his chair. I look around, finding several of my co-workers in various stages of shock at my sudden awakening, ranging from identical reactions to the Officers, to no reaction from the deaf janitor.

I stand myself up, feeling the couch under me complain as I push off it, heading for the hall.

"We still got some questions for you Doctor." Judy says as I stroll outside, far enough from the building so that I can smoke. I struggle with a lighter, eventually able to light the blunt.

"Doc is that..."

"Yes it is... Who was the mammal?" I ask, my mind racing, and my fury still wanting me to kill someone. I look at the officers, exchanging glances.

I motion for them to speak as I take another long drag from the blunt, letting the smoke burn my lungs.

"DNA identified her as Kristine Carols, went missing two years ago in Bunnyburrow." Hopps says, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"What was the nail in the coffin?"

"Repeated doses of nighthowler and then the antidote. Heart finally gave out." Wilde informs.

I drop the blunt, crushing it under my foot. I get a chill down my spine because I feel like a lot more of these are going to happen.

——————————————————————————

_I can feeeellll it commmmmin in the airrrrrr tonight, ohhh loooord..._


	4. The Dark

**Chapter 4**

\- Day 11 -

"Settle Down!" Bogo orders, the excited whoops dying down. I focus on the Chief's expression, it is most definitely not a good one.

"In the past week, a string of mammals have turned up dead. All appear to be tortured to death, with the eventual cause of death always being repeated doses of nighthowler and its antidote. First Victim: Kristine Carols, 20, black doe from Bunnyburrow. Died on a stretcher at ZGH. Victims Two through Five: Assorted small predators, all from low-income areas of the city, aged 19 to 25, all found in a half dug mass grave in a junkyard over in the medowlands. And Attempted Victim One: Arnold Grounder, 21, Ram from downtown, reported missing three years ago, found in the trunk of a car by scrapyard workers."

Everyone is silent, I see several mammals in the room starting to boil with rage. Infront of me, I see Fangmeyer digging her claws into the table, and Wolford is clutching his fists together so hard I'm starting to see drips of blood.

"The only officers not assigned to this case are McHorn and Rhinowitz. You two are needed for a SWAT mission in the Rainforest District. Everyone else, stay seated."

The two giants walk out of the bullpen, as soon as the door closes, Bogo turns a chalkboard over, revealing a web connecting the victims.

"Alright. Our surviving victim has described to me that he was kidnapped shortly after graduation, and sold through the slave trade for the past three years. He eventually wound up in the paws of our serial killer, we have no name, but what we do know is that it's a he, and it's a Arctic Fox missing two fingers on his right hand. Our victim can tell us the guy is a fucking psychopath, subjecting his victims to torture for 12 hours, then giving them night howler for a period of time, before giving them the antidote and torturing them again. This goes on until they are dead. Now, our first victim was found alive. Our survivor tells us that after he was given the night howler once again, he woke up in a hospital bed, so we are to presume he got lucky and when he was given the antidote he was presumed to be dead."

Over the course of Bogo's informitave speech, Judy, Sydney and Fangmeyer all had to make a mad dash for the trash can, with several others, including myself not far behind.

-0-

I look at the trashcan, my swirling vomit looking back at me, I straighten myself up, wiping the vomit off my chin with my sleeve. I mentally prepare myself, turning back around, facing the bear I shudder, feeling my stomach not done yet, but I fight down the feeling.

"Didn't take you for a puker." Joseph says, looking down at me, his Russian accent not hiding his surprise

"Tornakov. It's the damn smell." I say, clamping my hand firmly over my nose. As I make a few shaky steps back towards the tables.

I'm about to open my mouth again when I hear the doors behind me open, a corpsman pushing a stretcher with a body bag into the room. I look at the tag as it's pushed bye, recognizing the name.

"Ah god damn, I need to make a call." I say, pulling my phone out and hitting the contact labelled 'Chief'

-0-

I pat Nick on the back as he continues to puke his brains out into the trash can. His stone expression lasted until Bogo pulled up a slideshow that featured pictures of the deceased.

From somewhere at the front of the room I hear 'Try Everything' come from a phone, clearly a ringtone. The Chief simply pulls his phone out, putting it to his ear. "Chief Bogo... I see... Thank-you Doctor." He says putting his phone away before simply sighing. "Grounder is dead, heart gave out fifteen minutes ago."

I lead Nick back to his seat as a collective garble of rage comes from the various officers in the room. I simply sink into my seat next to White, who is holding a plastic bag in his hands, clearly not sure if he's fine.

-00-

I breathe in the fresh air of the seaside, enjoying it before I take a bite of my lunch, a sandwich from a sub shop on the boardwalk.

"Found our pedo, over there by the Ferris wheel." Logan says, pointing at a hog wearing a dark trench coat, trying to hand candy to passing children.

"Let's get em." I say, sliding off the hood of the cruiser, crumpling the sandwich wrapper into a ball.

Logan and I walk down the boardwalk, pretending to be oblivious to the hog. I rest my hand on my tranquilizer pistol, while Logan has his hands on his vest, right above his taser. I whistle may way behind the hog, preoccupied by a rabbit kit who he's trying to hand a freebie.

I cough into my hand, causing the hog to turn, before starting between two of the buildings on the boardwalk.

_Is it too much to ask that one person doesn't run?_ "ZPD FREEZE!" I yell, tranquilizer gun in hand as I watch the hog decend stairs on the side of the boardwalk.

I jump the guardrail and roll when I hit the sand, finding myself at the bottom before our pedo.

"PUT EM UP!" I yell at the hog, who turns to find Logan at the top of the stairs. He goes to reach into his pocket, but a taser to the back stops that action. A set of cuffs later and we were carrying the unconscious pig back to the cruiser.

-0-

_Burn baby burn, disco inferno, burn baby burn..._

I hum to myself, mixing the powders together carefully. I take a rag to clean some of the fog off of my gas mask, it slipping out of my hand and falling to the floor. As I lean down I hear a sound I recognize all too well, slowly raising up, I see a small fire having started on my hot plate.

_Can't take your eyes off something for ten seconds nowadays can you?_ I dart for the door, running down the hall as fast as possible, forgetting I'm only wearing my underwear and a gas mask.

-0-

"Dispatch to all units, need two units for traffic control at a skyscraper fire in Sahara Square." The radio crackles.

Sydney picks up the radio, responding to the dispatch as I pull out of our speed trap location, flying down the road.

-0-

_"Fire units have been battling the blaze in This Sahara Square high rise building for four hours now, we do have confirmation from the ZFD that some residents of the residential high rise are still trapped in the upper floors of the building. ZPD has announced that one mammal is under arrest after used incendiaries were found in his apartment."_

The news then switches to a live shot of the blaze, where halfway up the building fire could be seen coming out of windows. Meanwhile I had my hands full, the late evening blaze started right after most mammals got home from work, and the ER was packed with everything from simple smoke inhalation to a firefighter who had to have their leg amputated with a fire axe after it got trapped.

I close the door to the room, going to my next assignment, one Jared Fowler, ZFD who got burns and smoke inhalation injuries. I open the door, finding the room empty, I double check the file and room number before grabbing a shortwave radio that was given to doctors in emergencies like this.

"Hey Alice, The ZFD guy, Fowler was in 27-B right?"

"_Yea, why?_" Comes the crackled response.

"Alert ZPD and hospital security we have a missing patient."

-0-

"Jessica." I say, walking up to the roadblock.

"Yea?" She replies, turning away from a pig covered in soot.

"Let Logan handle them, I need to tell you something." I say, not wanting to have this conversation, but we had become good friends at the academy and the Chief decided I should break the news.

I lead her down the street a bit, remaining silent as I think of how to break the news. I sigh, sitting down on the curb.

"Sit down." I say, patting the ground next to me.

I can see the fear in her eyes, going over the possible scenarios.

"Jared's dead?" She asks, tears beginning to flow.

"No. No, but it may not be any better." I inform as she embraces me in a tearful hug.

"Just tell me."

"He's missing. Hospital cameras caught him being wheeled onto an ambulance."

"If he's on an ambulance they should know where he is..."

I rub my forehead, not knowing how to break the worse news. She can see it in my eyes.

"What?" She asks, holding me by the shoulders. I can see Sydney walking up behind her.

I drop my head, before looking upwards. "The 'paramedic' who loaded him onto the ambulance was an Arctic Fox missing two fingers on his right hand..." I state sombrely.

She looks into my eyes, I can see her heart break and shatter before being crushed under the heel of a jackboot. She falls forward onto my chest, hugging me tightly. I don't know how to respond, the only thing I can do is return the hug. "Don't worry, we'll find him, and we'll find the fucker that has him as well."

——————————————————————————

_Give me reviews, in need the input._


	5. The Fire

**Chapter 5**

I fall backwards, collapsing into the chair, barely managing to stay awake. I can barely see the figure come towards me before I'm shaken out of my daze.

"HAGLER! C'mon buddy you only have one more patient!" Pulezo informs as he shakes me awake.

I watch as the patient on the table is taken off to recovery and the next is brought in. A file is given to me and I read over it.

"Crush injuries, ribs are broken, lung may be peirced." I state, tossing my soiled apron into a bin and tossing the gloves in the trash, before being presented a new set.

"Emma!" I yell over my shoulder, a field mouse popping her head from a rodent sized computer. "Total dead?"

She takes off her glasses before rubbing her forehead. "The building was horridly lacking in the fire code department, it's still burning... about 500 unaccounted for, 127 found dead so far."

"Christ almighty, let's keep that number there shall we ladies and gentlemen." I say, turning to my patient.

-0-

Logan and I just look up at the carnage, there is still fire coming out of various windows on the upper floors.

"Just got the newest figures." Nick says, slinking over, a look of defeat in his eyes.

"Of the 1170 known tenants, 132 have been found dead so far, with 482 not accounted for... phone calls are being made to every contact on the registry that hasn't been accounted for, but the fire marshal says expect the worst." He informs, I let my face fall into my hands, massaging my temple.

"How is it so bad?" Logan asks, eyes focused on a mammal waiving a bedsheet out of a window on one of the top floors, the fire only two floors below them.

"From what the fire marshal has inspected, sprinklers are either nonfunctional or fake, the fire alarm system wasn't set up, and the insulation in the walls is flammable." Nick says, his eyes also turning upwards.

"What about the guy who started it?" Logan asks, seeing someone jump out of a window, it only taking a few seconds for them to hit the ground out of our view. "Dear god I'm getting flashbacks to 9/11." He says looking away from the building and taking out a cigarette with shaking hands.

"Hung himself in the holding cell half an hour ago, took one look at the broadcast and couldn't live with himself." Nick's ears droop as he says it.

"Can it get any worse?" I inquire, receiving a sad look in return. "Oh dear god no..." I regret my words immediately.

"Two people transported to ZGH are missing, Jessica's brother, and a building janitor who tried to rescue someone from a burning room. Both taken at four hour intervals by the same fox." He states simply, his 'mask' having broken an hour ago.

"We have an ID?" Logan asks, sitting on the curb, his head between his knees.

"Guy was wearing a face mask, Precinct 4 is going through records of all Arctic foxes in the city but it's going to take time." I interject, remembering the image I saw earlier. "You think this is his strategy? Wait for a disaster and pick people from the recovery who nobody is watching?"

"It's possible, considering he had both an EMT uniform and either stole or had an ambulance. With the chaos nobody would question an ambulance leaving suddenly." Logan answers, lifting his head from between his legs.

"Anyways, hows Jessica doing?" I ask, keeping an eye on some reporters assembled on the other side of the barricade.

"I haven't heard much since Sydney drove her back to the Precinct." Nick admits. "The best we can hope for it tha..." He continues, being interrupted by a disturbance in the crowd of reporters.

Logan comes to his feet and follows Nick and I towards the barricade, where the commotion appears to be non-violent.

As we reach the barricade, I use my height to try and see over the crowd of mammals slightly shorter then me, not finding a large disturbance. Until...

"Hey! Back off mate, it's my photo!" I hear from somewhere in the back, where I see two raccoons fighting over a camera.

Nick and I jump the barricade, approaching the two, who begin to have a yelling competition.

"Gentlemen... GENTLEMEN!" I announce, having to raise my voice due to them not hearing me. They quiet down looking at me. "What's the issue?" I ask, pointing st the one currently holding the camera.

"I took some photos that ZNN wanted, but he says they're his due to it being his camera." The reporter replies.

"Did you let him use the camera?" I ask the other.

"Well yes, but..." He begins before I cut him off.

"Do you both work for ZNN?"

They both nod.

"Can I see the photo?" I ask, wondering what they were going to fight over.

I'm handed the camera and I click through the photos, most of the blaze, a few of the first responders, and two of the mammals at the top of the building. The last photo, which I presume set them off is a photo of Nick, Logan, and I, where Logan is still in the curb with his head between his knees, I'm leaning on a cruiser, my face in my hands, and Nick is looking upwards with his notepad in his hands.

I raise an eyebrow before handing the camera back, coming to a resolution. "If you both work for the same company, hand them in saying they're both of yours." I simply state, to which they seem to agree.

I return to the barricade, once again jumping it and returning back over to the cruiser.

-0-

_(A/N: If you want some mood music for this scene, may I recommend "Margaritaville" by Jimmy Buffet)_

Some things in life are just relaxing. Watching clouds drift across the sky, enjoying a great book, and the classic sound of waves on a beach, this is what I found myself listening to.

The sun, the sand, the turquoise water... This is what money could buy you.

"Ma'am, a call from the number you saved in Zootopia." I hear from over my shoulder, a jet black Wolf holding a silver tray with a cell phone on it.

"Thank you Gustave, I'll summon you when I'm competed." I say to him over my shoulder after I take the phone, I hear him click his heels and wait for him to walk way before raising the phone.

"How's the big city?" I ask, sitting up and taking a sip of the drink I have next to me.

"Yea I'll be honest India, shit has hit the fan." Comes the reply, somewhat stressed and frantic.

"He's popped up again hasn't he?" I grip the glass, rage building.

"Yep, your ex has made a nice appearance in Zootopia. Six dead already and two just got taken by him. I need answers."

"Shawn. Just because he was my ex doesn't mean I know where he is."

"India! You dated him for three fucking years! Christ, mom and dad thought that you'd have married him when you can back! You know how he thinks, where he hides!"

I fall back in the chair, rubbing my forehead. "I should have taken your advice."

"What and put two bullets in the back of his skull?"

"Yep, instead I just haaaaad to go to the cops so he could rot in jail."

"Alright, I need some answers."

"He's a man of repetition, he will do everything twice or three times, not as far as OCD, mainly so he knows he's done it right. He is rarely moving during the day, when he was dating me I swear to god I never saw him out of his house if the sun was up."

"Where does he like to live?"

"Cold, he's a swimmer so near water. One more thing. He loves red herrings, overwatched The Saw movies, and he read up on booby traps. Be careful you idiot."

"It's not me going after him this time, I'm going to leak the info to the cops. Remember if Cameron finds out that my sister dated the guy he'd raise hell looking for you. Speaking of which where are you?"

"Honduras."

"You always liked Latin American men."

I hang up with a snort, beginning to laugh hysterically. After a minute or two I come around, pulling out my phone and pulling up a photo.

"You basdard, I hope you die slowly." I say, lowering my phone and looking at my prosthetic leg.

"GUSTAVE! CALL ANTONIO, TELL HIM IM CANCELING MY TEN O' CLOCK!"

-0-

\- Day 14 -

I knock on the Cheif's door, looking at the folder in my hand. It had been slid under my door while I was watching the evening news, and I had gotten to the station so fast I neglected to put on my uniform.

"Enter." Comes the gruff reply. I open the door, losing it behind me and giving a sharp salute. "Robertson, why are you here? Your shift ended three hours ago." Bogo asks, eyeing the folder in my hand.

"This got slid under my door, and boy do you need to see it." I say holding up the folder and setting it on the table. I open the envelope once again, pulling out several documents and photos.

"What is this?" Bogo asks, looking at the documents. "_Defensa Civil Ciudad de Panamá" _

"Panama City Civil Defence, now look at the arrest warrant." I say pushing a document infront of him, a handwritten translation next to it.

"Joseph Ximetz, Arctic fox, identifying features... Columbian born... missing two fingers on his right hand. Wanted for Crimes against Humanity..."

"That's not all." I say, pulling several more documents out. "Bogata, Rio, Bueno Aries, Roitan, Cancun, Mexico City, Belize - the entire country of Belize - and the biggest one." I finish, sliding another document infront of him.

"San Diego..."

"That was stamped and signed two months ago, he shot a cop that pulled him over and sped off."

"So we don't just have a serial killer. We have a serial killer that has evaded authorities in over half a dozen countries."

"Do you know who gave this to you?" Bogo asks.

I pull a final handwritten note out of the folder, which Bogo takes and reads aloud. "Put my ex in the fucking ground."

Bogo looks up at me with a questioning gaze. I try to keep my cool, but his gaze is one that could burn a hole through your skull if he were to stare too long.

"Fuck if I know." I admit, raising my hands in defence.

"Thank you Robertson."

I stand, giving another salute before looking down to remember what I'm wearing. _Oh yea, forgot I had this shirt, Christ all I need is a Panama hat and a cigar and I'm a Latin American drug dealer._ I smirk, making a mental note to go to Banana Republic tomorrow so I can get a hat. I give the night receptionist a wave as I walk past, pushing the door open and looking at my watch.

_6:40, already had dinner... Work night so I'm not drinking... meh I'll go down to the range. _

_Later_

***BANG*** I open the bolt, letting the casing fall to the floor, close the bolt and raise it back to my shoulder and ***BANG***

I chuckle, getting some odd looks from the other range users, mainly because while they're using assorted pistols, I'm using a bolt action rifle.

I feel a tap on my shoulder, looking back to find Logan.

"Hey mate, how you doing?" He asks as I clear the rifle, turning away from the range and walking over to the rest area.

"Had to relieve some stress, and nothing does it better then to make everyone around you half dead." I crack a grin, the events of the day still fresh in my mind.

"Noticed you didn't seem too disturbed today." He pressed, I give him a look as I put my rifle in its case.

"I've become desensitized to violince." I admit, picking the case up from the table and following him.

"War in the Middle East, 9/11, constant mass shootings..."

"All brought to you live in ultra HD!"

"Exactly. Man the worlds going to shit ain't it?"

"I already lost all faith in this planet."

"When did you give up on it?"

"Few weeks after the Nighthowler debacle., I was sitting in a bar, on my way to being waisted, academy started the next week. Anyways, I'm sitting there, third drink just wound up infront of me when I see this kid being heckled by the bouncer, yknow standard fake ID stint. Anyways, I down a few more drinks, and then head out, by this point I wasn't _drunk_ but there was no way in hell I'd make it home without puking. I make it outside before I need to puke, run to the nearest trash can, empty my guts... I look up and guess what I see?"

"A unicorn?" He asks, I snort before I continue.

"Nope, remember the kid from earlier? Yea... bouncer dislocated his jaw, knocked him out cold, kid then puked from the nausea and drowned in his own puke."

"Christ."

"Cops already had the bouncer in cuffs, and I just walked home. The next morning I woke up and I just didn't care for the world's bullshit anymore."

We walk in silence for a few minutes, we stop when we reach my apartment. I take a good look at him, finding him shivering under his parka and ushanka, then look down at my jeans and dress shirt.

"Come inside, you are clearly frozen solid." I insist, holding the door open to allow him to come in.

-0-

\- Day 19 -

I drop my cigarette, crushing it under my heel as I step away from my rental truck, I pull a key out of my pocket, opening the trunk. I quickly scan the area, grabbing the item of my searching before quickly closing the trunk.

I look at the price of paper in my hands for the fifteenth time.

_Aspects of Ximetz:_

_\- Near water_

_\- cold_

_-mammal of repetition_

I kick the chain link gate open, defending the concrete steps down to one of the canals that transverse Tundra Town, I eye the flowing water at the bottom, knowing if I fall in I'm screwed.

I wrap my parka tighter around me, the wind picking up slightly. I come to my target, a rusted gate underneath an overpass, I had been watching it for several days, finally seeing the basdard come out early last night. I decided to wait until today, and looked at my watch. _3:28 AM_ Go time.

I kick the gate open, swinging my paper wrapped item of interst up, the paper coming off to reveal a SIG P226. I take off the safety and turn on a laser mounted underneath the barrel, letting my night vision do the rest. I slowly decend down the slight incline of the hall, eventually coming to another grate, which I find is unlocked. I slowly swing it open, scanning the room. I can see several benches, all covered with various tools, some medical some industrial.

I spy a door at the other end of the room, raising my pistol as I approach it, its steel with a padlock on the hinge. I turn around, grabbing a crowbar from one of the benches, breaking the padlock open.

I start to swing the door open, it being forced from the other side. By the time I regain my bearings I'm pinned to the ground, looking up at a lion who is clearly under the effects of the Nighthowler serum. I go for my waist, finding the vial Of antidote I had brought smashed due to my impact with the ground.

I dodge the lion's attempt to bite my head off, realizing I'm going to be overpowered shortly. I scan the floor around me, finding my pistol among tools knocked off a bench to my right. I start to decide against using it when I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder, finding the lion decided to dig his claws in. I quickly grab the pistol as he opens his mouth, aiming for my now flailing left arm. I apologize to whoever he and his family are before putting the gun to the side of his head and ***BANG***

He instantly falls limp on top of me. I try to take a breath but find him crushing me. I roll him off me before taking a few deep breaths, adjusting to the sharp pain in my shoulder and the warm feeling of blood all over my face.

I drag myself to my feet, looking into the room the lion had come from, finding that he had broken out of a cage within this room, there is a second cage, but instead of having the other kidnapped mammal, all I find is some blood, a tooth, and a few chunks of tiger hair.

"Fuck." I state aloud, heading for the exit.

-0-

"Z463 arriving on scene." I say into the radio, looking over at Sydney before stepping out of the cruiser.

"So where did the report say the gunshot came from?" Sydney asks, burrowing deeper into the coat she is wearing.

"Down in the canal," I remind her, walking over to a chain link gate, finding it forced open. "We have forced entery!"

I draw my tranquilizer pistol, keeping it lowered as I decend the steps into the canal. I scan the area, finding a few peices of wrapping paper caught in the fence, a gate forced open under the bridge, and the glint of something metal down in the water.

I waive Sydney over to the gate while I decend there canal, kicking off my shoes and taking off my socks before I wade into the shallow but fast flowing water. I wade a few feet out before leaning down to grab the metal object, still obscured underneath the water. I eventually find and grip it, raising it into view.

"Got a gun!" I yell up at Sydney, holding the pistol in the air, I recognize it to be a SIG P226.

I wade back ashore, putting my socks and shoes back in before walking back up to Sydney, who has an evidence bag ready, the water taking away any chance of getting any fingerprint or DNA from the gun. We then enter the open gate, announcing our presence as we come to another gate, this one not forced open.

I flick on a flashlight, slowly opening the gate to find what seems to be a workshop. I quickly scan it, finding what appears to be our victim. I go over and check for a pulse, giving up after a little while.

I look around as the lights come on, finding Sydney next to a light switch, with this room and the room next to it, which appears to have been behind a locked door.

"Looks like there was a struggle." Sydney observes, pointing out tools knocked off a table, and a padlock clearly broken off of the door.

"I can see from here the gunshot was close range, maybe point blank, from the blood splatter, the gun was on my right, so our victim was on top of someone." I say, pointing to blood on the floor and wall to my right, and the entry wound, on the left side of the victims head.

"Our shooter was on the floor, on their back, must have been injured when the left..." She inquires, pointing to drops of blood leading out of the door where we came from.

I look around again, finding a bullet casing on the floor with the tools. "Nine millimeter casing here, I'd say that SIG is our murder weapon."

I hear some footsteps from the door, turning to find Wolford and Fangmeyer walk in.

"Jeez." Fangmeyer simply states, looking around the room.

"What have you gathered so far?" Wolford asks, observing me next to the body.

"It'd be a lot easier for me to demonstrate. Fangmeyer, come over here." I say, laying down on my back a few feet from the body "Pin me down, not professionally, as if you were in a blind rage."

She walks over, pinning me to the ground by the shoulders, her knee digging into my gut.

"Now, with my size, I could easily throw her off me like this, so our shooter is probably smaller, I'd say a fox or a sheep. Anyways, our shooter is pinned here, and I'm going to go out on a limb here and say toxicology is going to come back with Nighthowler in our victim, so Fangmeyer would also be trying to bite my face off. So, our shooter, not being able to free themselves, probably injured, and facing getting their neck ripped out, takes their gun..." I continue, turning my fingers into a stereotypical gun shape, "puts it to the victim, and bang!" I exclaim, pretending to fire. "Fangmeyer, collapse as if you just got shot through the brain." I say, she responds by falling on me, I grunt for a moment before pushing her off me and returning to my feet. "Okay, now compare Fangmeyer and our victim."

"I'd say you're just about right..." Wolford comments, rubbing his chin.

"Thanks Laura." I say, Fangmeyer climbing back to her feet.

"So what about our murder weapon?" She asks, eyeing the bullet casing.

I respond by holding up the evidence bag with the SIG, now seeing some engravings on the side, my eyes widening as I read them, I realise the suspicion of my actions, faking a sneeze before Wolford takes the bag.

"Found it in the water st the bottom of the

canal, shooter probably chucked it." I say, thoughts racing though my brain.

I recall the inscription I just read, more questions appearing then answers. _Pilot Cadet S. Hagler, 04-10-1997_

-0-

I look up, finding Cameron enter the apartment, I don't think twice about it, going back to making some chicken curry.

"Hey Shawn, where were you sayyyyy 3:30 this morning?" I hear him ask behind me, I freeze, knowing exactly what this pertains to.

"Just got off work, was on my way home." I reply, continuing to cook.

"Stop anywhere on the way home? Get gas... maybe a bite to eat... murder a lion in the abandoned storage bunker under Frostbite street." He questions, the last sentence being accompanied by the click of a safety.

I simply pour the chicken into two bowls and walk over to the couch and slide one across the coffee table and sitting down on the other end. "Sit, put the damn gun away and listen." I say, beginning to eat the chicken.

I hear an annoyed snort, followed by Cameron sitting on the couch, service tranquilizer set within his reach.

"Ximetz is my sister's ex." I state, seeing him open his mouth with a question.

"India, and no, I'm not telling you where she is, I can tell you she may or may not have been sending hitmen where he's been sighted after him. When he popped up in Zootopia, I decided enough was enough, and I was going after him." I look up, seeing Cameron leaning back in the chair, eating the curry.

"Needs more balsamic vinegar." He states, looong into the bowl. "So I presume that you realize what you've done."

"Ran out and yea." I state, glad he isn't pressing the topic.

"You had to use your engraved pistol? You know that a SWAT team will be knocking on the door real soon." He asks, going to continue before a knock comes at the door.

"_ZPD SWAT! OPEN THE DOOR!_" Comes the middle yelling.

"Speak of the devil, ITS UNLOCKED!" Cameron yells back at the door, the door is opened and several heavenly armed and armoured mammals come rushing in. "Hey fellas, fancy some chicken curry?"

"Robertson are you-" Delgado begins, being cut off.

"Aware That Shawn shot a mammal dead at roughly 3:30 this morning, Yea I put two and two together." Cameron answers honestly, highlighting the tranquilizer pistol on he table as he finishes his curry. "I was just asking him about it. Have a seat."

The four confused mammals take seats on the couch, Delgado next to me, keeping a pistol aimed at me.

"Now Shawn, mind explaining to everyone what you just told me?"

-0-

_"Now look at them yo-yo's, that's the way you do itYou play the guitar on the MTVThat ain't workin', that's the way you do itMoney for nothin' and your chicks for free_

_Now that ain't workin', that's the way you do itLemme tell ya, them guys ain't dumbMaybe get a blister on your little fingerMaybe get a blister on your thumb..."_

I listen to the radio, gripping the beer bottle in my hand. I lean back, downing what's left of the bottle and knocking on the bar signaling one of the bartenders I want another.

"You know you shouldn't drink so many of these." She says as she passes me another bottle.

"Why cause its piss water?" I ask with a snort, she chuckles before heading back down the bar.

I look at my phone, reading the text string. _He should have been here like an hour ago, I'm just going to call him and ask what he wanted to tell me._

I open my contacts, hitting his mobile number and putting the phone to my ear.

"Yea Yea, I know you're sitting at the bar wondering where I am, truth is I'm currently having a nice conversation with my roommate and four SWAT officers over my activities earlier today." He says over the phone, I rub my forehead as I take another swing of beer.

"Mate, unless you tell me why I got on a plane from Montreal, I'm going to come over there and shove a flashlight so far up your ass I can make shadow puppets with your tongue." I rub my forehead, the alcohol and my temper getting the best of me.

"You will receive an email in ten minutes from a travel agency, it'll explain everything." He states simply, the click of the line going dead tells me the conversation is over.

I empty the bottle, slap a fifty dollar bill on the bar and head for the exit, muttering under my breath. "Tabernac de tabernac, why did he take out the favour now?"

-0-

\- Day 25 -

I shiver slightly, the wind going straight through my shirt and fur and chilling me to the bone. _You just had to take the favour out 'eh Shawn?_ I look at my watch, I've been here for six hours, in the cold, watching a fucking hospital.

Shawn had given me two things to do, one watch any hospitals if any mass casualty events happened, two, if I spotted an Arctic Fox at said hospital, I was to put a bullet through his skull without any questions. I must admit it was odd, but after what Shawn told me happened after the fire, I wasn't in any way going to let it happen again.

-0-

"Heather, for the last time, we were supposed to have that shipment in Vegas last night... what do you mean he ran out of gas!?! ...Anyways, I'll call the customer and tell him his shipment of computers is going to be late, any other shipments having issues... mhm, okay so stuffed toys to Phoenix, furniture to Reno, and Diesel to Salt Lake... Alright Thanks." I groan, sliding my phone into my pocket as I approach my car.

_I knew I should have gone to school and done engineering, noooo, just had to take over the business from dad. Look where it got you, immensely wealthy, head of the biggest truck freight companies on the west coast and up to your armpits in issues with drivers._

I am about to unlock my car when I see a van screech to a hault down the road, I can't make out any details, but I see something be dumped out the back and the van continue down the road. _Too lazy to go to the dump eh? Lazy motherfuckers._

I sigh as I get in my car and turn it on, knowing I needed to head that way to get home. I simply turn up the radio before shifting the car into drive and head down the road, as I approach the garbage that was dumped out of the van, I find that it isn't garbage at all, but instead a tiger.

I quickly hop out of the car, running over to the guy, finding him naked, covered in blood and various wounds. I quickly pull out my phone and dial 911.

I remember the first aid course that I took in high school, mainly to get an extra credit, and try and find the guys pulse, which I eventually do, though I wouldn't call it a pulse and more of a buzz saw. _Fucking hell this guy's heart is going so fast it's gonna fucking explode._

"911, what's your emergency?" Comes the voice of the operator.

"Yea, I'm on Saylos street, under the 202 Freeway, just saw a tiger get dumped out of the back of a van, this guy looks like shit, he's got no clothes and his pulse is going so fast I can't count it." I frantically say, knowing I won't be able to do shit.

-0-

"_A wild ride, over stony ground_

_Such a lust for life, the circus comes to townWe are the hungry ones, on a lightning raidJust like a river runs, like a fire needs flame, oh__I burn for you..._

"

I whistle along with the song, sipping some coffee before my shift starts, I eye a picture frame, still not convinced that it's straight. _Is it really... Yea it's straight... or is it?_ My internal monologue is interrupted by the phone on my desk ringing. I absentmindedly pick it up as I continue to whistle.

"Dr. Hagler, Trauma Surgon." I introduce, wondering who was calling so short before my shift.

"Doc! Got a live one! Ximetz's work! Male tiger, mid 20s!" Comes the panicked voice, I can tell it's a EMT in the back of an ambulance.

"As soon as you're here, straight into OR1 GOT IT?!" I yell, not waiting for an answer before I slam the phone down and pick it back up, punching a number in. The other end picks up after one ring.

"Hagler, What's the situation?" Comes the reply.

"Male Tiger Heart, Mid 20s, OR1 ZGH ASAP!" I yell, not taking any fucking risks this time. On the other end of the line I hear a quick 'yep' before the reciever is dropped and I can hear someone running, followed by a door opening and closing.

I get to my feet quickly, running out of my office and sliding to a stop at the reception desk.

"Heart Transplant OR1, prep emergency surgery." I instruct Alice, who quickly picks up the phone, as I rush over to the ER to get it prepped there.

-0-

"He's alive?" I hear from the drivers seat for about the one hundredth time so far. I grip the 'oh shit' handle so hard I swear I'm going to rip it out of the ceiling as Jessica drifts my Challenger around a corner, going well over the legal limit. As soon as Shawn gave me word Jared was found alive, I had immediately gone to Jessica's to get her, knowing it probably wouldn't be a good idea if she was alone, and Sydney, while her best friend, was occupied at the Precinct.

As soon as I told her, she had rushed outside, demanding to drive, and seeing as I was not suicidal, I had promptly given her the keys. In the rear view mirror I see the lights of a cruiser, but instead of pulling us over, it just passes us, taking position infront of us as we speed along.

I grin, knowing a saw a certain dingo in the drivers seat as it passed us, being encouraged by a certain red deer in the passenger seat. I return to my state of panic and terror as I feel us going sideways around another counter. I'll admit I had done this in this vehicle before, but not at night, not while it's raining, and certainly not with traffic around.

By the time we pulled in to the ER, I had to roll out of the passenger seat because my legs had given out, I welcomed being dragged to my feet by two certain officers.

"How'd you know it was us?" I ask, taking a few deep breaths as I see Jessica talk to the receptionist.

"I only know one person with a black 1970 Challenger with those red highlights." Sydney says, indicating to my vehicle.

I feel a buzz in my pocket, to which I procure my phone, trying the fingerprint unlock, to no avail, so I switch fingers to my backup, clean it and then try again. _Print ID locked please use password._ I sigh, imputing my password and opening the text app.

_Dr. Seaaaan: I'd get Jessica sitting down if I were you_

I look up, showing the text to the other two, who look confused more then worried.

"It's my contact name for Shawn, let's go do some comforting shall we?" I say, wandering into the ER, the two of them sitting next to Jessica while I wander deeper into the ER, being waived through a door with an electric lock by Alice, Shawn's receptionist.

I find Shawn leaning against a wall, eyes closed, muttering something under his breath.

"Shawn?" I ask, trying to sound hopeful, dropping the act when I approach. "How bad?"

"We successfully transplanted the heart." He says with a thousand yard stare at the opposite wall, I let him continue. "He's cerebrum dead."

"Fuck." I fall back against the wall, slowly sliding down it until I am seated on the floor. "I need more answers."

"Shoot." He says, sliding down next to me.

"Before he came to Zootopia, what drugs did Ximetz use?" I ask, knowing I probably will get a generic answer.

"Cocaine, LSD, Magic Mushrooms, once he mixed weed, heroin, crack, shrooms, morphine, and OxyContin together." Shawn replies, taking a pill bottle out of his pocket and taking two pills. "Citalopram?"

I take the bottle and check the dosage before downing three pills.

"Let's go have a nice conversation with Jessica." I force myself to my feet, dragging Shawn up with me. We slowly wander down the hall, stopping short of the doors to the waiting room.

"Hey Cameron?" Shawn asks. "Please slap me across the face as hard as possible, I need the adrenaline."

I turn him so that he's the right angle before slapping him so hard I have to catch him from falling over. After a few seconds he thanks me and then nods to Alice.

We walk into the ER, where apart from Jessica, Sydney, and Logan, I can see Bogo in the far corner of the room. I grab Logan by the arm, leaving Sydney with Jessica and we head over to Bogo.

"White, How is my officer doing?" Bogo ask, watching Jessica in the background.

"She's hopeful, although she isn't getting her hopes too high." He replies, a hopeful smile on his face.

"Robertson, what did the surgeon say?" Bogo turns the topic to me.

"Transplant was a success but Jared's cerebral dead." I state bluntly."

"I am not a doctor Robertson." Bogo points out.

"Body is functioning properly, but for all intensive purposes he's dead. Kaput. Gone to see his maker. Past his prime. Departed. Deceased. Floating down the river. Got up and l-" I ramble off.

"Thank you Robertson. You may head home, White, you and Manning can take Fowler home in your cruiser. Oh and Robertson." Bogo says.

"Yes sir?" I inquire.

"All the jam cams somehow failed for the last hour, we have zero evidence of speeding, reckless driving, or red light running." He states with a smirk.

I simply shrug and sigh, before heading back out to my car, knowing that now two people in this city are out for Ximetz's blood. And I'm not far behind them.


	6. The Smoke

**Chapter 6**

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" I chant, running as fast as my legs can take me. I look over my shoulder, seeing Cameron bearing down on me.

"I'M NOT HERE TO ARREST YOU SHAWN!" He yells, jumping a table as we continue down the street, I duck into an alley, screeching to a hault when I realize it's a dead end.

I freeze, hearing Cameron come to a hault behind me. I slowly reach into my jacket, gripping the tranquilizer gun I'd 'found'

"Shawn, just turn around, I just want to talk." He implores, I glance over my shoulder to find his hands empty. With a sigh, I lower my hand, spinning to face him.

He rubs his face, walking slowly into the alley as he continues the massage. He stops about a foot infront of me, taking a deep breath and sighing. "Let's talk about Ximetz."

-0-

I take another sip of my coffee as I read the newspaper infront of me, deeply appalled by the story about a interspecies couple being tarred and feathered. I shake my head, lowering the paper a bit as I hear someone take a seat across from me.

"Cameron, how nice of you to return." I grin, letting my words do the rest.

"Yea Yea, sorry about running off like that, I just had to talk to Shawn." He explains, playing with the keys he has on a lanyard.

"C'mon, our lunch break is over anyways. What did you want to talk to him about?" I ask, folding the newspaper and putting it under my arm as I stand. I then lean forward and grab the coffee I was drinking before strolling towards the cruiser.

We walk in silence, the only thing spoken between us as we enter the cruiser and go back on patrol is an agreement on what the radio should be set to. We continue our shift, the only abnormally being Cameron texting someone, but I don't mind.

After an hour of doing our patrols and handing out a few traffic tickets, we eventually get called to act as first responders to an accident on one of the freeways. As we are pulling into the highway, Cameron says the first non-work related thing since lunch. "What's your opinion on vigilantism?"

I give him a questioning look as we follow the curb of the highway passing stopped traffic. "I mean, not the worst thing, but a crime is a crime, unless there is an extremely good reason, I wouldn't hesitate to slap cuffs on a vigilante."

He just nods as we pull up to the accident, a nasty roll over involving a few cars and two semis, one hauling a trailer labeled as hazardous cargo.

"Alright, is there anywhere traffic can get by?" Cameron questions, scanning the scene as he dons his high-visibility vest.

"Looks like they can get by in the median shoulder." I observe, a good space between one of the semis and the concrete barrier.

"You handle that, I'll check the vehicles." He commands, running off towards the wrecked cars.

I go back to the cruiser, grabbing a few cones and tossing one in each lane before directing the outermost lane to go around the scene.

I have to severely micromanage, needing to threaten several mammals with either jail time or a broken headlight due to them driving dangerously close to the cones I laid out. After one such tell off where only the fact that there may be someone with a dashcam kept me from kicking a headlight in I'm relieved to see the fire department and a few other police units arrive.

I direct the fire mammals to the wreck, and get assistance with the traffic from Wolford and Fangmeyer.

"ONE MORE FOOT FORWARD AND I'LL BREAK YOUR FUCKING HEADLIGHT!!!" I hear Fangmeyer yell, I turn to find a minivan quickly following her directions to bypass the crash.

I turn to go calm her down when I get pushed onto my back, looking up to find a sedan slamming on their brakes. I angrily drag myself to my feet, giving the teenage driver a death glare. I spot a cell phone in their paw and look to find Wolford already approaching, fire in his eyes.

I walk over to the driver's door, knocking on it as I resist the urge to punch the window in. The driver sheepishly rolls it down, beginning to utter an apology before I interrupt them.

"Pull over to the right. If you don't, I'll drag your ass out, and move the fucking vehicle myself." I utter through gritted teeth, my self control barely holding me back.

The driver pulls forward, and I once again return to their window.

"Out." I state, starring daggers. "Turn around... Paws behind your back."

"You are under arrest for distracted driving, vehicular assault, assault on a LEO, and interfering with an emergency scene." I say, clamping the cuffs a bit too tight. "Wolford read them their rights. I need a fucking break." I say, passing the driver over to Wolford before taking a long walk over to the side of the freeway, leaning against the guardrail as I take a cigarette out, light it, and try to calm my nerves.

I don't know how long I'm leaning there, but realise my cigarette is burning my fingers after a while, dropping it and crush it under my heel.

I stand up straight, walking towards the wreck, I smell the air, getting the taste of blood, asbestos, gasoline, and cordite. All the wonderful smells of a car wreck. I stroll around the site, eventually walking up to one of the vehicle collision experts.

"Sooo, what happened?" I ask, still slightly agitated.

"Well, Car A decided to cut off Car B, causing them to slam on the brakes, forcing Car C to swerve into the next lane, causing Semi A to lock his brakes, jackknifes the trailer, and Cars D through H run into that, followed by Semi B." She explains, pointing to vehicles as she talks.

"Where's cars A, B, and C?" I ask, noticing she didn't point to them.

"On the other side of the Semi, none of them hit anything." She says, waiving at the semi.

I say my thanks, walking back over to the traffic control which has slowly pushed back from the scene, creating a cascading barrier to the curb, finding Wolford screaming at a driver, who hurriedly gets out of the way.

"Any updates?" I ask, glaring at random drivers who may dare to agitate us.

"One other arrest, ran over Cameron's foot." He says, pointing at Cameron, who is seated on the trunk of a pickup cruiser, holding an ice pack to his left foot.

"It broken?"

"Nope, motorcycle, caused him to use some colourful words within earshot of a car full of children though." He explains, waiving two tow trucks through the barricade.

"Oh how much I would have loved to see that. What was he doing before he came over to traffic control?" I ask, watching a driver block two cars from merging.

Wolford remains silent for a bit, finally explaining with a sad look. "Kid in the backseat of first car that slammed into the semi, distracted her until medics arrived."

"Parents?" I ask, knowing I won't like the answer.

"Decapitated by the semi." He says somberly.

"What?!" I exclaim, expecting the worst, but not that bad.

"Clean off, kid survived because they were short enough." He clarifies, loosening his tie.

"Bugger me sideways with a teabag." I mumble, knowing that this could be worse.

-0-

"THIS COULDN'T BE WORSE!" Ivy yells, running into the room.

"What?" I ask, turning away from the lynx on the operating table.

"We're out of five mammals blood types, dangerously low on a few others." He explains, tossing me the blood bag I requested.

"Which ones are out?" I inquire, attaching the blood bag to the patient before getting back to finishing the work on their arm.

"Lynx, rabbit, sheep, coyote, and koala." He says, ready to take more orders as I begin to suture the wounds.

"Call Medowlands Children's for the sheep and rabbit, Rainforest District for koala, and find someone to get to the blood bank on thirty seconds for the other two." I command, catching him depart out of the corner of my eye.

"Alright, Caroline, this one is good to go, keep that IV on them until their blood pressure gets back to normal, Emma what's next?" I state, taking my gloves off and tossing them into the bin.

"That's it for surgeries, there wasn't too many major inj..." She replies, being cut off by a large bang that I recognize as a gunshot.

I flick into overdrive, grabbing my P226 from the back of my waistband and rushing out of the OR, seeing the outline of a Arctic Fox jumping into an ambulance, a second large bang shattering the window next to him.

I run outside, emptying my magazine at the back of his ambulance, swearing I hit a tire, I tuck my pistol back into my waistband, checking on the stretcher left abandoned at the enterance, finding the sedated patient alive and well.

I pull my mask off my face breathing a sigh of relief as I look across the street, the glint of a rifle scope visible on the roof. I waive off the mammal, turning to see several mammals staring at me.

"You think after that happened the first time I'd let it happen again?" I question the crowd, getting a few murmurs of approval back.

"Thought So... ALICE! CALL ZPD SAY TO BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR AN AMBULANCE RIDDLED WITH BULLETS!" I yell, hearing tires screech to my left.

I turn to find the apocalyptic fury of Jessica and Sydney walking up.

"Evening ladies, this time Ximetz didn't get what he wanted." I state, pointing to the patient being wheeled back inside.

"What happened?" Jessica asks, eyeing the bullet casings on the ground.

I pull out my pistol, letting it hang from my loose grasp. "I protected my ER." I say, the fire in my eyes as well.

"And the two rifle shots that were reported?" Sydney asks.

"My insurance." I state simply.

"What is you- Yea now I realise I'm not getting that answer." Jessica begins, giving up after she sees the look on my face.

-0-

_"This is ZNN news at six, tonight's breaking news: Attempted Kidnapping at ZGH, stopped by hero Surgeon, more coming soon; Zootopia wide warrant issued for exptremely dangerous mammal; did you know your toaster may be a North Korean spy? ... Earlier this afternoon, a mammal dressed as a paramedic attempted to kidnap a mammal at ZGH, the attempt was stopped by the ER's Trauma Surgeon, Shawn Hagler, who shot at the kidnapper while still in the ER, causing him to abandon his attempted victim and flee... The ZPD has issued a public warrant for Joseph Ximetz, Ximetz is described as a white fox, who speaks with a Latin American accent. He is wanted in connection with two kidnappings, one attempted kidnapping, and the deaths of several mammals, he has been described by the ZPD as a serial killer, and if spotted, should be reported immediately as he is described as armed and dangerous... Now how one lepord says his toaster is a North Korean Spy, David Kennedy..." _

I turn down the TV, signaling the bartender that I need another drink. The kangaroo stops infront of me, setting another can of cider down. "Shawn, you're taking advantage of my offer that your drinks tonight would be free."

"Olivia, you offer me free booze and you expect me _not_ to take advantage of it?" I question as she leans on the bar.

"I expected you to have three or four beers, not half a bloody case of my most expensive cider." She chuckles, holding up a tally sheet, with 6 tallies under my name.

I raise my hands defensively, grabbing the can and taking a drink. I hear the door open and turn to find a gaggle of police officers wandering in. I spot Cameron out of the crowd, pushing Logan in the direction of the bar.

"Yo, Olivia said my tab is free, who wants drinks?" I announce to the two.

"Oi! Only your and my boyfriend's drinks are free, Cameron's 'otta pay!" Olivia whines before giving Logan a kiss when he reaches the bar.

"Spirytus, leave the bottle." Cameron grumbles, before wandering off to the bathroom.

"Bad shift?" I ask Logan who has a colourful drink infront of him.

"Ohhh yea. He comforted a traumatized kid for a good four hours until medics finally got the kid to trust them, then he had the fantastic job of looking for the shot up ambulance, finding it abandoned in one of the maintenance tunnels, Ximetz leaving a taunting note." He explains, downing his drink in one go.

"Christ. For me it was one DOA, one dead on the table, and Ximetz." I inform, taking another drink of my cider.

"How did he drive the ambulance, I swear I hit a tire or two."

"Runflats, as long as he doesn't go all out he can go for a good while."

Cameron wanders back over, downing the shot left out for him before he even sits down. "So... Who's your sharpshooter? I won't report them to the police consitering that they stopped Ximetz."

I turn around, nodding to someone before turning back to the bar. I see Cameron and Logan watching the mammal I nodded to wander over to the bar and sit on my other side, the Wolverine setting her drink on the bar.

"Paris Sampson." She says, looking at Cameron and Logan.

"Long time no see Paris, how have you been doing?" He asks, downing another shot.

"While you put in your leave after you finished college, I stayed in, been doing well." Paris says, taking a sip of her drink.

"You always were a good shot." Cameron mumbles.

"What was that Corporal Robertson?" She asks in a commanding tone, I look at Cameron to see him sitting a bit straighter in his seat.

"Ohhhh, I get it, Cameron joined the reserves and you were his commanding officer." Logan says.

"She was the same rank as me, it's just hearing that tone of voice again, jeeeeez, you know how punishments in the military are often medial pointless tasks?" Cameron asks rhetorically.

"Ohhh, I know where you're going." Paris says, her eyes going wide.

"Yea, well, Anyways lets just say Paris and I were... Close, that's how she met you Shawn, and after one instance of certain _activities_ we got called out by a major, we had to mop the parking lot... in the rain..."

"I knew I set you two up, I just never realized you were both in the same regiment." I recall. She had texted me saying she wanted info on Cameron for soooome reason, so I happily provided it, eventually having to bring Cameron's attention to the obvious hints she was dropping. She said that she owed me one.

"You two shagged?" Olivia puts bluntly, refilling Logan's drink.

Cameron gives her a dumb look, rubbing his chin. "I don't know, I have a suspicion that we did, but I can't confirm it, it's almost like it was so obvious that I need to use this response."

-0-

I rub my forehead, my head spinning as I slowly sit up, barely holding back the feeling of nausea. My eyes slowly adjust to my surroundings, finding myself still in the bar, laid down on a couch in the staff room. The nausea suddenly jumps, and I quickly grab a trash can next to the couch, emptying my guts into the metal can.

After that display, I wince as I hear the door slam closed, I look up to see one of the bartenders sitting down on the couch opposite.

"Last thing I remember is Paris being introduced Meghan, what did I do?" I ask the coyote.

"You downed half the damn bottle of vodka is what you did, there was a betting pool on when you'd hit the floor." She replies, leaning back on the couch.

"How long did I last?" I swing my feet off the couch, rubbing the throbbing headache.

"Twenty minutes before you emptied your guts, then you hit the floor. Hard. Oz and yer partner dumped you there."

"What time is it?"

Glancing at her watch, she appears to do some mental math. "Just past midnight, you were out for six hours."

I stand, steadying myself on the wall for a minute, the gears still beginning to turn in my head. After another thank you I exit the room, I duck into the bathroom, washing my face with cold water to clean the vomit off and get me awake enough to get home.

I adjust my shirt in the mirror, thankful I adopted a policy of never drinking while still in uniform as I knew some of my coworkers did. Heading for the door I reach the door to find Nick and Judy in a liplock, appearing that they are fighting for dominance, I watch for a minute, unable to pass them and not suicidal enough to interrupt them, finally getting my chance when they finally stop to breathe. I quickly pass the bar, slapping a couple hundred bucks on the counter and head for the door.

Once outside I get a breath of the 'fresh' air, holding a fifty out for Oswald, which he accepts, tucking it into his pocket. "If I never hear about this incident again you can put one drink on my tab per night."

He nods with a smile, and I walk towards my car. Once I reach my car I look at the keys in my hand, realizing that although I'm not shitfaced, I'm not daring to drive. I shrug, beginning down the sidewalk when I find a Wolfords car, rocking back and forth.

_Hopps and Wilde were still in the bar... This must be the other two lovebirds._

_You should interrupt them._

_Why?_

_Cause if you get a picture you can hold it over them._

_Blackmail them?_

_Nah, just make fun of them._

_Sweet._

I grin, my internal monologue ending as I pull out my phone and creep up to the rear window, catching a glimpse of the two in the back. I ready myself, snapping the photo and running. I stop at the end of the alley, finding Wolford jumping of of the back still pulling up his pants.

"Arron, seya at work buddy!" I yell, seeing the look of terror on his face.

"I though you were blacked out on a couch in the bar!" Fangmeyer informs, straightening her shirt.

"And just because I'm out cold means you two can go at it." I ask condescendingly.

"Don't tell the Chief."

"I haven't blabbed on WildeHopps, you think I'm gonna blab on you?"

"Wilde and Hopps?" Arron questions.

"Yea, they're going at it in the bathroom of the Bog."

"How'd you know?" Fangmeyer asks.

"They walked in full make out mode, I walked out."

"Want a ride home?"

"Is the back seat clean?" I joke, walking back towards the car.

"Mostly."

I raise an eyebrow, getting over it as I do not want to walk home. I climb in the back, the door shutting behind me.

"Yea just drop me off at the bar." Wolford says, looking st his watch. "I want a picture of Hopps and Wilde."

Laura pulls the car to the curb, Arron hopping out and strolling towards the door, while I jump into the front, relaxing in the seat.

"Wait, this is Arron's Car..." I remember, looking between him and Laura.

"And he said I could drive it, what you going to do? Arrest me?"

"Only if I don't get a ride home."

-0-

"Thanks for the ride." Cameron exclaims, hopping out fo the car and stumbling over to the enterance to his apartment.

I pull away from the building, beginning down the road. I make it to the next light, when suddenly the passenger door opens and a Arctic Fox sits down, pistol leveled at my chest.

_Welp, it's been a good life, if it comes to it I'm taking the fucker out and if I need to go with him so be it._

"Hey Ximetz, How you been?" I ask, sounding as if I'd known him all my life and he wasn't a serial killer.

"Let's make a left, the lights green." He says simply. I follow his orders precisely for the next few minutes knowing that the panic switch I installed near the pedals has been transmitting my location ever since he got in.

"So, plan on torturing me, or did you just want to go for s car ride?" I ask, eyeing a hole in the guardrail I know leads to a one story drop to the street below.

"No, I just wanted to inform you of how impressed I am in your actions, you have gotten further then any other police department in the America's." He compliments, in the rear view mirror I can see a black and red 1970 Challenger, Cameron driving and a rifle in the passenger seat.

"Yea it's mainly due to dumb decisions," I floor the gas turning the wheel towards the opening. "Like this." I brace myself back, barely registering the gunshot to my right and smashing window to my left before the car impacts the ground, and I go to sleepy sleepy land.

-0-

I thank my lucky stars I decided to watch Fangmeyer drive down the street, catching Ximetz walk out from an alley and simply hop in the passenger seat as Laura waited at a red light.

The alcohol taking control, I had immediately slid over the roof of my Challenger, popping the trunk to retrieve the SKS I kept in the trunk. I had followed them at a distance. When I saw the car abruptly turn off the guardrail I knew it was Laura's doing.

I slam on the brakes, grabbing my SKS and flipping off the safety as I step out of the car, the roar of police sirens encroaching from every direction. I run over to the edge of the bridge, raising my rifle at a white streak running down the edge of the canal.

***BANG* *****BANG* *****BANG* *****BANG* *****BANG* *****BANG* *****BANG* *****BANG* *****BANG* *****BANG***

I lower my empty rifle, grinning as I see Ximetz pick himself up and limp out of view.

"Did you kill the fucker?" I hear from down below, finding Fangmeyer on her back, slowly and methodically rubbing her shoulder.

"No. You alright?" I ask, hearing the screech of tires behind me.

"Probably broke a rib or two in that stunt, totaled my car too." She begins to sarcastically laugh, quickly stopping as she embraces her ribs.

"ZPD DROP THE GUN!" I hear behind me. Knowing they most likely saw me empty the rifle into the canal, I promptly take two steps back and lay the rifle at my side, getting on my knees and putting my hands on the back of my head.

I wait for a moment, before my hands are roughly cuffed behind my back and am pulled to my feet to face Grizzoli and Delgado.

"Call a bus." I say simply as I'm lead towards the cruiser.

After a quick explication from me and assurances from Fangmeyer before she's taken to the hospital, I find myself sitting in an interrogation room, though uncuffed.

The door swings open and closes, and I slightly lean back as Bogo sits across from me.

"This interrogation is being performed by Chief Adrian Bogo to one Cameron Robertson. Are you Cameron Robertson?" He asks in a monotone voice.

"Yes." I reply, slightly disturbed by his calmness.

"Between five PM and midnight, where were you?"

"The Bog."

"Did you get intoxicated? And if yes, to what level?"

"Yes, and blackout drunk."

"Did you drive home?"

"No."

"Did you witness an armed mammal get in the vehicle with the coworker who drive you home?"

"Yes."

"Did you pursue them in a personal vehicle?"

"Yes"

"Once their vehicle crashed did you discharge a personal weapon at the armed mammal?"

"Yes."

"Did you miss?"

"Unfortunately Yes."

"Are you still under the influence of alcohol?"

"Most likely yes."

"Due to subjects intoxication and actions being in the defence of a coworker from a known serial killer, the actions are deemed lawful, and the subject will be taken to sober up."

"Awww, I hate the drunk tank."

-0-

_"She, says her love for me could never die,_

_But that'd change if she ever found out about you and I,_

_Oh, but her love is cold, wouldn't hurt her if she didn't know..."_

I whistle, checking marks off a list infront of me as I check Fangmeyer, who is looking slightly peeved.

"I mean he has a rifle, ten shots, and he didn't hit once?" She complains again, still groggy from the anesthesia.

"He blew a 0.11 when he was arrested..." I remind her, checking off 'coherent thought' as I listen to her ramble I regret that.

"And how was Ximetz able to run down the canal after what I did?"

"Because he was probably wearing his fucking seatbelt properly."

I hear her grumble a few select words, I hear a knock on the door.

"Who's there?" I ask.

"Visitor." Comes the muffles reply.

"Only family members or Chief Bogo."

"It's Wolford."

"C'mon in."

"But I'm not family or Chief Bogo." He says, closing the door behind him.

"Well Yer her mate soooooo." I say, letting my arms do the talking.

"And how'd you think that?"

"I can smell you on her, she mumbles about you in her sleep, and Cameron told me." I say with a smirk, exiting the room.

"You talk about me in your sleep." I hear behind the door before I walk away with a grin on my face.

-0-

"SHUT UP AND LISTEN!" Bogo yells, the bullpen instantly becoming so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Nobody had ever heard Bogo swear in the bullpen.

"Ximetz has been cornered in a 20 block squared area of Tundra Town. He is wounded, thanks to Officer Fangmeyer crashing her car with him in the passenger seat, and Officer Robertson for drunkenly shooting at him. Every department in the city is setting up sweep teams to begin crushing the pocket. Any questions?"

"What about the underground ways out of the area?"

"Metro and Sanitation workers have been given tranquilizer guns and told to shoot anything that moves, the subway is shut down and the tram lines are also stopped."

"How are we to deal with him if we see him?"

"Officially he is to be taken alive, but if any of your fingers accidentally slip I won't blame you."

"Sir are you asking us to kill him?" Judy asks, slightly tipsy.

"I'm saying if you accidentally shoot and kill him then it wouldn't be the worst thing to happen to this department."

"Soooo..."

"I don't care if he's captured dead or alive."

"Gotcha."

"Alright, anyone who has been drinking earlier tonight is to stay in this room."

The room clears out, leaving Fangmeyer, Wolford, myself, Cameron, Nick, Judy, Sydney, and Jessica.

"White, wake Robertson up."

I shove a Cameron, knocking him to the floor, where he raises his head.

"I'm awake mom..." He complains, still looking at the floor.

"All of you are to blow a breathalyzer, if you are below 0.08 then you are going to be allowed to join the search teams, if you're higher you wait with Clawhouser until you blow below 0.08"

Officer Higgins begins going from person to person with a breathalyzer, announcing the results as he goes along.

"Wilde... 0.09, Hopps... 0.08, Fowler... 0.01, Manning... 0.05, Wolford... 0.1, Fangmeyer... 0.02, Robertson... 0.06, White... 0.03."

"Wilde, Hopps, Wolford." Go talk with Clawhouser, eat a doughnut. The rest of you, let's get that fucker."


	7. The Burn

I rack the slide on my issued rifle, the wind cooling my skin as I look down the diserted street. To my left is Logan, shivering heavily under a parka, and to my left is Ethan, who I haven't seen for a while due to him being assigned to SWAT.

"We ready to rock?" I ask, hearing various responses in return.

"All officers, advance one block." Clawhouser announces over the radio, we look at each other all confirmed before we start walking down the street, spread out in a V formation, Ethan at the front, I'm on the far left, checking doors as we pass with Logan opposite me, checking the other side of the street.

As I scan the street I find that we're leaving a residential area, and entering into a commercial area. I glance into a store as I check the door, finding it locked even though the sign indicates the store is open, I behind the counter, seeing an Arctic Hare behind the counter with a shotgun, visibly relaxing as he watches me walk past the store.

"Oi, store owners may be defending their property, just saw a clerk with a shotgun." I announce, getting a nod from Logan on the far side of the street.

We reach the next street, and I look over to the next block, nodding at a group from Precinct 7.

-0-

_C'mon Shawn, you should have found him by now..._

I look down again, looking at an address that had been 'supplied willingly' from the guy who got Ximetz the Nighthowler, who had tragically been found with two bullets in his skull by the ZPD shortly after I talked to him.

I glance out of the alley I'm in, quickly retracting my head as I see the police line only three blocks away, and I'm not letting Ximetz escape from a jail cell.

I look down, taking the magazine out of the C7 i have in my hands and nodding at Paris, replacing it with a magazine with rubber bullets, these things would break bone and hurt a fuckton, but as long as they hit somewhere non important, you'd be fine.

I rack the slide, chambering the first round. I quickly check my escape route, nodding at Paris, leaning around the corner and putting six rubber rounds towards each officer before booking it down the alley, running between buildings for a while, and ducking back out and checking the building numbers.

I run down the street, racking the slide on my rifle, chambering a lethal bullet, coming to a hault infront of a wooden door. I don't stop for pleasantries, putting five rounds in the vicinity of the handle before kicking the door in, Paris going in first.

I look around the room, while I'm distracted I hear a few gunshots, I quickly snap and empty rounds into the door it came from, I then check on Paris to find her clutching her leg.

"GET THE FUCKER!" She yells through clenched teeth, ushering me down the hall.

I quickly run further down the hall, putting a round into the door every now and then to keep whoever shot me hidden.

Just as I'm about to reach the door, I feel a impact on my neck, reaching down I find a blue splotch, I look back up to see Ximetz running down the hallway, and I put two bullets at him, seeing him fall forwards as my vision begins to blur.

I grab the needle in my pocket, stabbing it into my thigh, before falling back as everything fades to red.

-0-

"_Team 20-Right, advance! Gunshots reported three blocks ahead!_" The radio crackels, I turn to the others before beginning a run, preparing myself for the worst.

The building we find isn't much, a three story warehouse. We fan out to surround the building, I am tasked with the fire escape at the back of the building.

I hear a creak of a door to my left, and I raise my riot shotgun towards the sound, my vision gone in the pitch black of the night.

I feel the cold of metal on the back of my neck, not realizing what it is before a loud crack rings out, and before I realise it I'm on the ground.

I can't feel anything and am suddenly unable to breathe. I don't even recognize as Cameron comes up to me, putting something just below my vision, only to bring it up dripping with something crimson seconds later.

He goes back down there, but I don't know what he's doing before I fade off into the darkness.

-0-

Rage is probably the best thing to describe it. The fire in your eyes as you go to complete a goal, blocking everything out, due to the fact that you absolutely _must_ complete the task at hand.

Immediately after I saw Ethan close his eyes and failed to find a pulse, I stopped thinking, only one thing mattered at that point. It was an afterthought to report Ethan's execution, by the time command knew, another team was around the building, while our team ran after the white streak we saw flee.

I round another dumpster, barely missing the fucker's white tail go around another corner. I don't even acknowledge the radio crackeling on my hip, reporting one shot and another injured within the building we responded to, I was just chasing. Chasing turned into tracking, following the smell of cordite and blood, the drips of blood that I saw every now and then helped as well.

Ximetz was not going to see the light of day again, he just wasn't it was a fact of life, whether I put three rounds in his chest or slowly strangled him, he was dying tonight. No if's, and's, or but's.

The next corner comes and goes, followed by another, and another. I round a dumpster to hear the signature puff of a tranquilizer rifle. Three times. Followed by the thump of three bodies.

As I turn, I recognize my three slumbering comrades before I realise that a rifle butt is about to find its mark.

——————————————————————————

_Take me down the the Paridice city, where the cliffhangers are big and the story doesn't end..._

_Sorry for the short chapter._


	8. The Ashes

I rub my skull, the world spinning back into view, I can't remember much, only the butt of a gun smashing into my face. I reach up, feeling my face and finding the swelling not as bad as I would have thought.

"Looks like Mr. Robertson is awake." I hear, the voice making my blood run cold.

I sit up, finding myself in a sealed room, it appears to be a water tank. I come to my feet, scanning my surroundings, finding three other identical tanks, one containing Jessica, one containing Logan, and one containing Sydney, with the asshole himself Ximetz standing in the center of the room. I finally get to look in the Arctic Fox's eyes.

"The fuck do you want Joseph?" I ask using his first name to piss him off. He just laughs, a blood curdling laugh that I really wish would stop. "I'll be brief, each of you have a box infront of you. Open it."

I notice the box, seated inconspicuously in the corner of the room. Before I even reach it I can smell the cordite in the gunpowder. I flip the lid open, finding the cold metal of a pistol looking back at me.

"Ha you're an idiot Ximetz! Giving us guns!" I hear Logan yell.

"Don't Logan, the glass is probably bulletproof." Sydney says, I notice she has the pistol in her hands.

"Each if you have one bullet. The game is simple. You have sixty seconds for three of you to shoot yourselves. There are sensors on the floor of your cells, when three of them detect blood, the doors will open and the fourth can have their way with me." An evil grin forms on his face.

"And if we don't?" Jessica inquires.

"I pull this lever, flooding the four of your chambers with water, all four of you drowning. Fifty seconds."

I look at the gun in my hand, knowing what I need to do. I look up, a mutual understanding being found in Logan's eyes. I then look at Sydney, tears in her eyes but the same understanding being found.

"Jessica." I state simply, racking the slide on my pistol. Turning to look her dead in the eyes. "When that door opens, you better not make his death quick."

I then look back at the pistol in my hands, barely recognize Ximetz saying that we have thirty seconds. I slowly raise the pistol, thinking about all of the people that I had met along the way. Judy, who helped me when nobody believed me, and is now in a coma as a result. Jared, who Ximetz tortured to death to get a rise out of Jessica. Shawn, who almost I had to subdue after he took a nighthowler pellet for me. Olivia, Logan's only close friend, who last I saw her, was being held down by Oswald and Nick, being tortured by the Nighthowler serum. Ethan... I barely recognize the feel of the cold metal on the side of my temple.

"Twenty." Ximetz chuckles. I look him dead in the eyes, a smile on his face.

"I'll see you in hell fuckface." I close my eyes tight, pulling the trigger. *puff*

puff* *puff*

I open my eyes, finding similarity confused faces in Logan and Sydney, a blue sploch on the side of each of their heads.

"OH FUCK ITS NIGHTHOWLER!" Sydney yells as Logan collapses with a scream.

I have to brace myself against the window as I feel Fire in my veins, I scream, the pain not subsiding as my legs give out, and I'm left writhing on the floor.

-0-

"You're a monster Ximetz." I say, staring directly at the Fox. I look over at Sydney, strolling around on all fours in her cell, it looks like Logan is our cold, except for the fact that his eyes and tail are moving, while Cameron's screaming is still going on as he tries to fight it, suddenly I hear a click, the door unlocking. I push it open to see Ximetz's face full of terror, I have to look away when I see Cameron collide with Ximetz, Ximetz's screams filling the room for only a few more seconds, before it's replaced with a gurgling sound.

I look back, finding Cameron having ripped Ximetz's neck out, his face mangled beyond comprehension. I turn to see Logan and Sydney stalking around the room, though they don't appear to be fleeing, I'm supprised to see Sydney appear to hide behind me from the other two predators in the room. Behind me I hear banging on the door, attracting the attention of Logan and Sydney, while Cameron collapses to the floor again with another scream.

I hear the door be forced open, Several heavily armed officers rushing in. "Fowler! What happened!" I hear from Wolford somewhere behind my back.

"Cameron, Logan, Sydney all Nighthowlered, Ximetz is probably dead, explain later." I quietly explain, Sydney still against my legs.

Cameron begins screaming again, ending up on his back, panting and looking at the ceiling. "Wh- What the f- f- fuck happ- p- pened?" I hear him stammer, attracting the attention of all of us as a tranquilizer hits Logan and Sydney.

"Fowler, you sure he got hit?" I hear Fangmeyer ask.

"Yep, saw it with my own two eyes, he also kinda did that to Ximetz sooooo..."

A dart hits Cameron as well, to which he complains a bit before blacking out.

I suddenly feel Fire in my right leg, I look down to see that Sydney accidentally wiped some of the Nighthowler onto my leg.

"I'm gonna need a tranquilizer as well now, let's hurry chop chop!" I half scream, my leg giving out, I feel the merciful prick of a dart on the back of my neck before I black out.

-0-

_"Yo Romeo! Let's run away together!"_

_"I'm like, so down for that!"_

_"Let's like, get the fuck out of this crib!"_

_..._

_"Oh no, Juliet is like, dead!"_

_"I can't like, live without her, I'm going to go face the big hizzle in the sky."_

I open my eyes, extremely confused by my dreams. I look up, finding myself in a hospital bed, both arms handcuffed to said bed.

"Yo... Delgado... I just had the weirdest dream." I say at the lion in the corner, who's eyes look at me suspiciously.

"What was it about?" He asks, repeatedly clicking the call button next to him.

"I dreamt the entirety of Romeo and Juliet, except instead of Shakespearean English, it was gangster English."

"That's... interesting." He replies, our conversation is cut short by the door swinging open, a doctor cautiously poking his head in, with chief Bogo behind him.

"Hey Bogo, I just had the weirdest dream."

"Robertson, what is the last thing you remember?" He asks, his tone almost caring.

"Well I had just figured out I shot myself with night howler, and then I had this horrible headache and it felt like my veins were in fire... why do I taste blood?" I infom, the taste in my mouth distinctly pointing to blood.

"You kinda mawled Ximetz to death." Delgado answers as I sit myself up in bed.

"I..." _holy shit, I mawled him to... oh god now I remember... why do I not feel so bad about it? Oh yea because he was a homicidal mainiac who was going to kill us. Wait... _"Did you give me the antidote?" I ask, noticing the minute sounds and smells in the room. The trio's breathing and hearts beating, someone coughing down the hall, the smell of freshly brewed coffee coming from somewhere.

"Ahhhhhh no." The doctor informs.

-0-

_Three Months Later, Guanaja, Honduras_

_"She's blinding, I'm flying_

_Right behind the rear-view mirror now_

_Got the feeling, power steering_

_Pistons popping, ain't no stopping now..."_

I lean back in my seat watching as Shawn absolutely shreds the guitar, although to the others it was annoying, consitering he's been drunkenly shredding the guitar to the same song for three hours.

Taking a sip from my newly acquired drink as the song ends and Shawn starts again, I chuckle, getting an annoyed look from India.

"He's still going?" She asks, sitting next to me.

"Clearly. India remember, its your resort, you're the older sibling, you can tell him to stop." I inform, simply taking another sip.

"I would, but he's just so damn good, I mean he's doing it perfectly, even got the solo down to the note." She continues, leaning back in the chair. "So hows the whole nighthowler thing going?"

"Could be better could be worse, it's kinda annoying having to be tranqed whenever someone pisses me off."

"Who has the gun today?"

"I think it's Logan..." I respond, turning to find Logan's interest being the vixen he's talking to across the bar. "Well we're screwed."

I hear a chuckle to my right, and I turn to find India gone and replaced with Fangmeyer.

"Sup." She says nonchalantly.

I simply shrug, taking another sip of my drink.

"Where's Wolfie?" I ask, scanning the beach.

"He went scuba diving with Nick." She replies, being entrapped by Shawn's playing as well.

We watch Shawn for a little while longer, he eventually succumbs to the booze and exhaustion, collapsing on the stage in the middle of a solo, and Fangmeyer accompanies me as I take Shawn somewhere to sober up.

"You know, I think Jessica really hasn't recovered to watching you mawl Ximetz to death." She informs, I turn to look at her, accidentally basing Shawn's face into a post.

"Mr Penguin, I can get you the money, no need to club my skull in..." Shawn mumbles, both Fangmeyer and I looking at him and back at each other before shrugging.

"Yea, I feel sorry about that, of course I had no control over my actions _at the time_."

"I know, I know, it's just she's been a lot more... introverted is probably the best word for it."

"It's either PTSD or something else."

"Well that narrows it down to literally everything." She says as I dump Shawn onto his bed, proceeding to flick a fan on and the ensuring if he pukes he won't die.

"There's always the next day." I say, viewing all of my coworkers, no friends.

"Yea, Anyways, some guy named Dr. Sean called, says you owe him for something called "the incident."

"MOTHERFUCKER!"

——————————————————————————

_And there's the ending of one enemy folks, I wrote this before I even thought of a way to start the story, don't worry I'm going to write more as soon as I see the reactions from the story. Seeing as I'm also writing this Authors Note before the story goes up._

_As always - The Author_ \- _June 16, 2019_


	9. The Recovery

_Due to some confusion from people about names a quick summary will be at the end of this chapter - The Author_

————————-

"Shawn... What the hell are you doing?" I ask, resting my head in my paws due to the fact I can't watch anymore.

"I'm expressing myself! You have an issue!?" He replies, going right back to his idiotic act.

I had stumbled across him infront of the Hospital, a pocket sign in hand and an empty bottle of Irish whiskey nearby. He was passionately waiving the sign, which read 'ZGH, Buy one treatment, get your next free!'

_He's drunk and advertising his job, jeez... eh, let's have some fun while we're here shall we..._

"Shawn, you know this is highly unrealistic," I begin, catching his drunken attention. "you know the hospital would never offer free treatments, the American healthcare system is based on crippling debts, here let me help."

I take the sign from him, flipping it and grabbing a can of spray paint from the back seat of my Challenger. I quickly write a new message, admiring my work afterwards, a drunken Shawn looking on in awe.

"ZGH, the only hospital in Zootopia that you won't worry about the bill." He reads, I hold up a finger and pull out a marker, writing some fine print at the bottom. "You will not worry about the bill because of the painkillers that will make you unaware of the bill for several days."

"Say the red text loud and proud, I'm gonna go have a chat with your boss." I say, patting him on the back and wandering off towards the ER.

-0-

"_The fitness graham pacer test is a multistage arob..._"

I rub my forehead, looking over at Clawhouser with an unimpressed look on my face, before going back to the paperwork on my desk, having to fill out An incident report after a drug dealer claimed police abuse due to him being tackled. After he drew a gun. On three cops.

_The subject then drew a consealed pistol, prompting Officer Fowler and myself to tackle the subject to prevent any discharge of said weapon, in the process the subject suffered several bruises and a broken arm, the subject was given medical attention in a timely manner and was not subjected to any undue burden..._

"**CLAWHOUSER!!!**" I hear yelled from across the atrium. I look up, realizing it's not Bogo, before turning towards the front desk just in time to see Clawhouser jump out from behind it, immediately followed by an Arctic wolf impacting Clawhouser's still spinning chair.

Cameron stands back up, and it doesn't take a psychiatric doctor to know what he's thinking before he vaults the desk, returning to chaseing Clawhouser around the desk in circles. It continues for a good while, all the while a crowd of nightshift officers, random civilians, and the EMT crew based in the building place bets on how it will end. I notice Wolford looking at his phone, and I glance at the screen to catch a bet placed by the Chief.

"Clawhouser, what did you do?" I ask as Clawhouser makes yet another revolution of the desk.

"Meme... same I sent to you... may have pushed it... a bit too far!" He replies, having to split the response into sections as he continues circling the desk.

I feel a tap on my leg, turning around to find a noctule bat standing behind me.

"How can I help you?" I ask, turning away from the chase and offering my hand for the mammal to hop on.

"Yes I'd like to make a report about a drunken Fox infront of the hospital with a picket sign." The bar informs, my mind quickly goes to the photo Cameron shared with the department earlier tonight.

"Yea that's the ERs Trauma Surgeon, hes... I'll go take him home."

-0-

The birds are chirping, the sun is glowing in the sky, such a peaceful day in Zooto...

**_Gas gas gas!_**

**_I'm gonna step on the gas_**

**_Tonight I'll fly and be your lover_**

**_Yeah yeah yeah_**

**_I'll be so quick as a flash_**

**_And I'll be your hero_**

The music fades in and out as a 1970 black and red Dodge Challenger drifts around the street corner, followed closely by a red 1985 Jeep CJ7 and a red and yellow 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 302 after that.

Inside the lead muscle car, Cameron Robertson sits comfortably, putting his foot down as the engine roars on the straightaway, if he didn't have his aviator sunglasses on, his piercing green-blue eyes would be seen scanning the road ahead and the rear view mirror. One hand is rested on the top of the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, which he moves every now and then as he comes to corners or straights.

In the Jeep, Shawn Hagler grins as the Jeep roars. Under the hood he had replaced the original 2.5 litre gasoline engine with a V8 turbo diesel, the output pushing the refurbished Jeep to its limits. He grins as he sees the Challenger infront of him slow as it approaches another corner, his hands and feet move fast, taking the Jeep onto the inside curb, pushing past the Challenger with inches to spare, he barely hears the string of curses from the open window of the Challenger. He pushes his baseball cap further onto his head as he maxes the RPM on the fourth gear, hitting the clutch and shifting into fifth before putting the pedal down once again.

Taking up the rear, Nick Wilde watches the match between the speedy and controllable Challenger and the Jeep, he sees his opportunity and begins his move, reving the engine and shifting gears. His eyes dart between the two vehicles infront of him, the Challenger once again passing the Jeep, with a not so kind hand gesture being exchanged from the open Jeep. He goes for it, pushing the Mustang to its limits, managing to finally pass the Jeep but remains stuck behind the Challenger, the view of sunglasses very often glancing into the rear view mirror indicating the fact that the Challenger will not allow the Mustang to pass willingly.

Behind the pack, Logan White sits behind the wheel of his racing blue 1977 Holden LX Torana, the Australian built vehicle tearing down the road, his eyes watching the three way brawl going on a few hundred meters ahead of him.

"Olivia are you sure about this?" He asks nervously, eyes flipping from the road to the various bottles in the passenger seat, the radio mounted in the dash lighting up almost instantly afterwards.

"_Mate, the second you hit that switch you're switching from good 'ol gasoline to essentially jet fuel with NOS mixed in._" The radio crackles, the darting eyes not slowing down.

"That wasn't the question."

He jerks his wheel to the right, avoiding a box blown from a roadside table onto the road, spinning his tires to avoid a roll as the vehicle begins to skid sideways. Counterstering hard, he manages to get the vehicle back on track before shit hit the fan.

"_Straightaway coming up, the second the wheel is straight, flip the switch and fucking RIP IT!_" The radio practically screams.

Once the wheel is straight, Logan flips a switch, underneath the vehicle, a servo switches supply lines from the fuel tank to a tank in the trunk, meanwhile several valves open, NOS beginning to flood the engine. Logan's foot goes down, and he muscle car _moves_.

If Logan didn't know what was happening he'd swear that he'd been rear-ended, the speedometer steadily climbing. 80 kilometres per hour, 90, 100, 110, 120, 130, 140, 150, 160, 170, one hundred and eighty fucking kilometres per hour, Logan was literally flying over every bump in the road, the three mile long straight coming to a close shortly.

Half a kilometre behind him, the trio of vehicles formerly competing for first place were still competing for second, all amaised at the blue vehicle that had rocketed past, fire jetting out of the exhaust pipes on the side of the vehicle, the muffler having long been removed.

-0-

"Logan."

"Yes Cameron?" Logan asks, clutching his first place trophy.

"I was wondering what the fuck that was." I ask, turning the second place medal in my paw."

"Some modifications."

"Mods were banned!" Nick says, the evening light glinting off of his bronze medal.

"Mods were banned if made within the last decade... I made those mods in '94." He explains, wrapping his arm around Olivia.

"Olivia, how long have you known Logan?" Shawn asks, grumpy about his participation ribbon.

"Since High school, why?" She responds, drinking a cider she got from _somewhere._

"Did you help him make those modifications?"

"No, they were done when we started going out, how do you think we won me over in the first place?"

-0-

Chief Bogo, many mammals had a negative opinion of the water buffalo due to his hard exterior, but every one of the officers in his Precinct knew that beneath that hard, cold exterior, was a mammal who cared for each of them, and would do anything to keep them safe.

Bogo was currently seated at his desk, sorting though files while he left the TV on. Zootopia was having a charity race, any mammal employed by the city could enter and bring their own vehicle, first place got a trophy and a cash prize for their place of employment, second got a promise from the government that their place of employment would be next on the city's list, and third got the next spot on that list, and continuing down the list to tenth.

He smiled as he heard White won, the pride and got the ZPD the cash prize, with Robertson and Wilde taking second and third meant that Precinct one would be getting much needed extra funding.

Muting the TV he turns his attention solely to the files on his desk. MIRs, Major Incident Reports were the culmination of the reports of the last two year's worst police related issues, often the Chief would only have one or two of these on his desk, this time he had four.

Flipping open the first, the missing mammals case. He rubs his forehead as he flips page after page, reading every report from the missing person report of the first to disappear- one of the mayor's bodyguards, all the way to Hopps's report from the press conference.

Setting the file aside, he opens the next, the Savage Predator Terror, as it had been publicly named, internally the ZPD referred to it as one of the biggest shitshows that could have spiraled out of control. Over two hundred hate crimes, ranging from vandalism to murder, five riots, a dozen or so protests, millions of dollars in total cost. Bogo was glad that Hopps and that _idiot_ Wilde had brough Bellwether down, and that she was now on death row for several dozen terror charges.

The next file, Ximetz. The folder that Cameron had provided, consisting of Ximetz's many many warrants, the death certificates of Officer Murphy, Ximetz, and the Victims in Zootopia, Bogo was not in the slightest saddened that the lunatic wasn't behind bars, and was instead cremated and his ashes dumped somewhere unimportant.

The last file, never brought to the media's attention, never brought to the light of day after the file was closed and placed in the drawer, this was the first MIR in that drawer for the two year period.

_A year and a half prior, two months prior to Judy Hopps enrolling in the ZPA_

"Settle down!" Bogo booms, the officers in the room settling down. Bogo scans the room, finding the enthusiastic faces of all of his officers, except one. Officer Blitzen was the brunt of most jokes in the department since his enrollment, the reindeer barely got accepted to Precinct One, and had messed up slightly on his first few days, leading to the other officers teasing him constantly. He had taken the jokes, never lashing back out. Bogo did nothing to stop them, he drew the line at threatening or harassing, but jokes were fine, if Blitzen would file a complaint that would change, but that was yet to happen.

Bogo listed all the assignments, eventually just leaving Blitzen and another one of Blitzens classmates, Prancer, a fellow reindeer but more liked by the fellow officers, he was the worst to Blitzen.

"Prancer, Blitzen, parking duty." The Chief didn't like to assign parking duty unless it was a punishment or it was a new recruit with nobody to assign them to, but all the other cases were taken and no veh-

"Why am I being paired with the fuckup!" Prancer yells, a few of the recently departed officers overhearing and stopping to listen.

"Officer Prancer, there is no oth-"

"HES A USELESS TOOL! HELL HE WILL PROBABLY FUCK UP GIVING SOMEONE A PARKING TICKET, I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU ALLOW HIM TO REMAIN HERE, SEEING AS HE'D BE BETTER WORKING SOMEWHERE THAT SUITS HIM, THE MENTAL ASYLUM FOR INSTSNCE!" The rant continues.

Bogo grew angrier and angrier as the rant went on, this wasn't joking, it was full out disrespect and slander. He began to open his mouth to reply, the words beginning to leave his mouth. "Officer Pra-"

***BANG***

Prancer fell to the floor, the bullet having passed through his skull, back to front, the bullet imbedded somewhere in the wall behind Bogo, his face in pure shock, looking at the shooter.

"Blitzen, lower the weapon." The Chief says in a low yet authoritarian voice, the door trying to open, but being locked, procedure.

Blitzen held his service pistol in a shaking hand, mumbling something under his breath as he turns the gun in his hand, looking at it.

"Officer. Set down the weapon." Bogo continues, his voice calming in nature, Bogo knew the look in the officer's eyes, he was mad, and seeing the presumably dead Prancer infront of the Chief, he wasn't about to anger Blitzen.

Blitzen looked the Chief in the eyes, the door still trying to be forced open, tears welling in his eyes, there wasn't a look of anger, there was one of sorrow, regret. The Chief could do nothing as in one calculated yet shaky motion, Blitzen raised the pistol, resting it against his temple.

"BLI-"

***BANG***

The door was finally forced open, McHorn quickly taking stock of the situation, Bogo did nothing as he stood frozen in shock, the blood mess infront of him.

_Present Day_

Two dead officers, one murdered, not without cause, but certainly avoidable, the other by their own hand. Bogo has immediately stated that teasing of fellow officers was to be stopped at once, and if any officer reported another for such acts it would be dealt with brutally.

Bogo lowers his head as he thinks about how the rules are suddenly forgotten when it was heard a rabbit was assigned to Precinct one, even he joined in. The second Hopps 'resigned' he had brought the hammer down, he had since removed six officers for such acts.

"_Chief!_" The radio on the desk crackles, Clawhouser's voice cutting into the silence.

"Yes Clawhouser?" Bogo replies, setting the files into a drawer on the desk, locking it and placing the key in his pocket.

"_Precinct 4 just called, said that they had two officers of ours detained._" He continues, Bogo having an unimpressed look on his face when Clawhouser was finished.

-0-

"Ohhhhhhhh, what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning..." Logan slurs, getting, somehow managing to keep his ragtag quartet of holding cell inmates to sing in harmony, I rub my forehead, seeing Shawn wrap an arm around Logan and the other around the coyote on his other side.

I rub the now subsiding welt on the back of my skull, planning my revenge for the two of them.

_Half an Hour Ago_

"Shawn, Logan, her down from there!" I yell, shaking my fist at the two climbing a radio tower.

"COME AND GET US OLD MAN!" Logan yells back down, Shawn tossing a half filled beer bottle at me.

"I'm five years younger then you!" I respond, dodging the bottle, which smashes on the asphalt.

Logan responds by sticking out his tounge and blowing like a kindergartener.

_Jesus feckin Christ, if I make it to the Bog tonight I'm going to get tips from Olivia on how to manage these two._

My thoughts are interrupted by a police klaxon sounding behind me, I turn to find a police cruiser, although I don't recognize the officers inside.

"What's going on here?" The driver of the cruiser asks.

"Well you see, when they said they wanted to look at the stars from up here, I thought they meant sit on the trunk of the car and look up, not climb the damn tower to look." I explain, taking a step to the side as I hear another bottle whistle through the air.

"How many bottles do they have?" The other Officer asks, to which I just shrug.

I open my mouth to reply, taking a step to avoid another whistle, finding myself having moved into the path of the bottle after it smashes over the back of my head. By the time I hit the ground I'm already out cold.

_The Present_

I clutch the pillow tighter around my head as the quartet starts up again, I curse the manufacturers of beer that they know so many sea shanties.

I hear the electronic buzz of the cell block door opening, to which I raise my head slightly, still holding the pillow over my ears. I find a very unhappy looking Bogo standing next to the officers that had responded to the radio tower.

"Evening Chief, here for the great entertainment?" I ask, walking over to the bars and slightly releasing the pillow from my ears, wincing at the lights.

"Has he been checked for a concussion?" Bogo asks the officer to his left, to which the officer just shrugs.

"Sir, I will accept parking duty for a month if you can get me out of this cell, doesn't even have to be release, just somewhere I can get rid of this headache." I plea, still not realizing I probably have a concussion.

Bogo just sighs, waiving a hoof over at the criminal quartet. Who are going through "A Drunken Sailor" again.

"Sir, excuse my French but I have zero fucking idea."

-0-

The bullpen, the room where the day started, otherwise it was usually empty, but at this present moment it contained two mammals, Arron Wolford and Laura Fangmeyer.

"I mean, what are the odds that were the only couple in this Precinct?" Arron asks, Laura instantly begins averting her attention, to which Arron picks up on.

"Who and how long have you known?" He grumbles, sitting on one of the tables in the front of the room.

"Nick and Judy." She replies, sitting on the desk opposite Wolford.

His face just obtains a look that reads 'you're shutting me' as he stares at her, mind racing. "Nick and Judy is a given, I mean they don't even hide it anymore."

"The only 'evidence' for any others is a conversation Cameron overheard, but he was drunk and was singing karaoke." She says as she pulls out a notepad and tosses it to him.

"What was he singing?" He asks as he reads the scribbled note.

"Rock the Casbah and he nailed it, but not the point, the point is we have nothing to fear about bringing our relationship public, I mean half the city probably knows by now."

Unbeknown to the two lovers chatting in the bullpen, Wolford's mic was stuck on.

"_Also have you seen the way Bogo glances at Ben sometimes, I think it's the best!_

_I know! It's like they're meant for each other._"

Cameron and Logan just stared at each other as the conversation turned away from the chatting pair, both of them distinctly aware to the door on the third floor that just opened. Cameron slowly raised to his feet, inching his way towards the office door.

"_Also Jessica and Sydney! Yea that was the one Cameron mentioned!_

_Yeaaaaa, that makes sense, no wonder their __such good friends am I right?_"

Clawhouser's jaw was already on the floor, the only possible way for it to go further down was for the floor to cave out beneath him. His attention quickly turned upwards as four different mammals entered the atrium, all darting towards the bullpen.

Cameron tried to take a corner at the end of the hall of offices, instead loosing his balance and sliding several feet into the atrium on his back before slowly picking himself up with a few pained groans. Jessica and Sydney burst through the front doors, Jessica helping Cameron back to his feet as they defend apon the bullpen. The elevator doors also opened, stepping out and giving Clawhouser a knowing look, he turned towards the bullpen, where the other three officers were impatiently waiting for him.

-0-

"Man, we should probably get back to work, we've been talking here for a little while." Aaron comments, looking at the watch lazily resting on his left wrist.

"Yea, Hey your radio looks a bit snagged." Laura replies, adjusting the radio on his vest, both of them oblivious to the open door and four mammals watching them.

The clearing of someone's throat alerted the two to the others presence, their faces a multitude of images, ranging from annoyance on Cameron's, to fury, the fire in Bogo's eyes burning a hole in Laura's skull.

"Ahhhh. Shit."

————————

_Characters:_

_Cameron Robertson - Arctic Wolf, Officer at Precinct One_

_Shawn Hangler - Grey Fox, ER Trauma Surgeon at Zootopia General Hospital, Cameron's best friend and roommate_

_Logan White - Dingo, Officer at Precinct one - Cameron's partner in crime (law)_

_Olivia Chow - Kangaroo, owner of the Grog Bog bar, Logan's girlfriend._

_Oswald (Ozzie, Oz, The Wizard of Oz) - Tasmanian Devil, bouncer for the Grog Bog, and one mysterious motherfucker._

_Assorted Others (Mainly friends of the characters listed above) - Paris, Ethan, Jessica, Sydney, Pulezo _


	10. A New Challenger Approaches

_Due to some confusion from people about names a quick summary will be at the end of this chapter - The Author_

————————-

"Shawn... What the hell are you doing?" I ask, resting my head in my paws due to the fact I can't watch anymore.

"I'm expressing myself! You have an issue!?" He replies, going right back to his idiotic act.

I had stumbled across him infront of the Hospital, a pocket sign in hand and an empty bottle of Irish whiskey nearby. He was passionately waiving the sign, which read 'ZGH, Buy one treatment, get your next free!'

_He's drunk and advertising his job, jeez... eh, let's have some fun while we're here shall we..._

"Shawn, you know this is highly unrealistic," I begin, catching his drunken attention. "you know the hospital would never offer free treatments, the American healthcare system is based on crippling debts, here let me help."

I take the sign from him, flipping it and grabbing a can of spray paint from the back seat of my Challenger. I quickly write a new message, admiring my work afterwards, a drunken Shawn looking on in awe.

"ZGH, the only hospital in Zootopia that you won't worry about the bill." He reads, I hold up a finger and pull out a marker, writing some fine print at the bottom. "You will not worry about the bill because of the painkillers that will make you unaware of the bill for several days."

"Say the red text loud and proud, I'm gonna go have a chat with your boss." I say, patting him on the back and wandering off towards the ER.

-0-

"_The fitness graham pacer test is a multistage arob..._"

I rub my forehead, looking over at Clawhouser with an unimpressed look on my face, before going back to the paperwork on my desk, having to fill out An incident report after a drug dealer claimed police abuse due to him being tackled. After he drew a gun. On three cops.

_The subject then drew a consealed pistol, prompting Officer Fowler and myself to tackle the subject to prevent any discharge of said weapon, in the process the subject suffered several bruises and a broken arm, the subject was given medical attention in a timely manner and was not subjected to any undue burden..._

"**CLAWHOUSER!!!**" I hear yelled from across the atrium. I look up, realizing it's not Bogo, before turning towards the front desk just in time to see Clawhouser jump out from behind it, immediately followed by an Arctic wolf impacting Clawhouser's still spinning chair.

Cameron stands back up, and it doesn't take a psychiatric doctor to know what he's thinking before he vaults the desk, returning to chaseing Clawhouser around the desk in circles. It continues for a good while, all the while a crowd of nightshift officers, random civilians, and the EMT crew based in the building place bets on how it will end. I notice Wolford looking at his phone, and I glance at the screen to catch a bet placed by the Chief.

"Clawhouser, what did you do?" I ask as Clawhouser makes yet another revolution of the desk.

"Meme... same I sent to you... may have pushed it... a bit too far!" He replies, having to split the response into sections as he continues circling the desk.

I feel a tap on my leg, turning around to find a noctule bat standing behind me.

"How can I help you?" I ask, turning away from the chase and offering my hand for the mammal to hop on.

"Yes I'd like to make a report about a drunken Fox infront of the hospital with a picket sign." The bar informs, my mind quickly goes to the photo Cameron shared with the department earlier tonight.

"Yea that's the ERs Trauma Surgeon, hes... I'll go take him home."

-0-

The birds are chirping, the sun is glowing in the sky, such a peaceful day in Zooto...

**_Gas gas gas!_**

**_I'm gonna step on the gas_**

**_Tonight I'll fly and be your lover_**

**_Yeah yeah yeah_**

**_I'll be so quick as a flash_**

**_And I'll be your hero_**

The music fades in and out as a 1970 black and red Dodge Challenger drifts around the street corner, followed closely by a red 1985 Jeep CJ7 and a red and yellow 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 302 after that.

Inside the lead muscle car, Cameron Robertson sits comfortably, putting his foot down as the engine roars on the straightaway, if he didn't have his aviator sunglasses on, his piercing green-blue eyes would be seen scanning the road ahead and the rear view mirror. One hand is rested on the top of the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, which he moves every now and then as he comes to corners or straights.

In the Jeep, Shawn Hagler grins as the Jeep roars. Under the hood he had replaced the original 2.5 litre gasoline engine with a V8 turbo diesel, the output pushing the refurbished Jeep to its limits. He grins as he sees the Challenger infront of him slow as it approaches another corner, his hands and feet move fast, taking the Jeep onto the inside curb, pushing past the Challenger with inches to spare, he barely hears the string of curses from the open window of the Challenger. He pushes his baseball cap further onto his head as he maxes the RPM on the fourth gear, hitting the clutch and shifting into fifth before putting the pedal down once again.

Taking up the rear, Nick Wilde watches the match between the speedy and controllable Challenger and the Jeep, he sees his opportunity and begins his move, reving the engine and shifting gears. His eyes dart between the two vehicles infront of him, the Challenger once again passing the Jeep, with a not so kind hand gesture being exchanged from the open Jeep. He goes for it, pushing the Mustang to its limits, managing to finally pass the Jeep but remains stuck behind the Challenger, the view of sunglasses very often glancing into the rear view mirror indicating the fact that the Challenger will not allow the Mustang to pass willingly.

Behind the pack, Logan White sits behind the wheel of his racing blue 1977 Holden LX Torana, the Australian built vehicle tearing down the road, his eyes watching the three way brawl going on a few hundred meters ahead of him.

"Olivia are you sure about this?" He asks nervously, eyes flipping from the road to the various bottles in the passenger seat, the radio mounted in the dash lighting up almost instantly afterwards.

"_Mate, the second you hit that switch you're switching from good 'ol gasoline to essentially jet fuel with NOS mixed in._" The radio crackles, the darting eyes not slowing down.

"That wasn't the question."

He jerks his wheel to the right, avoiding a box blown from a roadside table onto the road, spinning his tires to avoid a roll as the vehicle begins to skid sideways. Counterstering hard, he manages to get the vehicle back on track before shit hit the fan.

"_Straightaway coming up, the second the wheel is straight, flip the switch and fucking RIP IT!_" The radio practically screams.

Once the wheel is straight, Logan flips a switch, underneath the vehicle, a servo switches supply lines from the fuel tank to a tank in the trunk, meanwhile several valves open, NOS beginning to flood the engine. Logan's foot goes down, and he muscle car _moves_.

If Logan didn't know what was happening he'd swear that he'd been rear-ended, the speedometer steadily climbing. 80 kilometres per hour, 90, 100, 110, 120, 130, 140, 150, 160, 170, one hundred and eighty fucking kilometres per hour, Logan was literally flying over every bump in the road, the three mile long straight coming to a close shortly.

Half a kilometre behind him, the trio of vehicles formerly competing for first place were still competing for second, all amaised at the blue vehicle that had rocketed past, fire jetting out of the exhaust pipes on the side of the vehicle, the muffler having long been removed.

-0-

"Logan."

"Yes Cameron?" Logan asks, clutching his first place trophy.

"I was wondering what the fuck that was." I ask, turning the second place medal in my paw."

"Some modifications."

"Mods were banned!" Nick says, the evening light glinting off of his bronze medal.

"Mods were banned if made within the last decade... I made those mods in '94." He explains, wrapping his arm around Olivia.

"Olivia, how long have you known Logan?" Shawn asks, grumpy about his participation ribbon.

"Since High school, why?" She responds, drinking a cider she got from _somewhere._

"Did you help him make those modifications?"

"No, they were done when we started going out, how do you think we won me over in the first place?"

-0-

Chief Bogo, many mammals had a negative opinion of the water buffalo due to his hard exterior, but every one of the officers in his Precinct knew that beneath that hard, cold exterior, was a mammal who cared for each of them, and would do anything to keep them safe.

Bogo was currently seated at his desk, sorting though files while he left the TV on. Zootopia was having a charity race, any mammal employed by the city could enter and bring their own vehicle, first place got a trophy and a cash prize for their place of employment, second got a promise from the government that their place of employment would be next on the city's list, and third got the next spot on that list, and continuing down the list to tenth.

He smiled as he heard White won, the pride and got the ZPD the cash prize, with Robertson and Wilde taking second and third meant that Precinct one would be getting much needed extra funding.

Muting the TV he turns his attention solely to the files on his desk. MIRs, Major Incident Reports were the culmination of the reports of the last two year's worst police related issues, often the Chief would only have one or two of these on his desk, this time he had four.

Flipping open the first, the missing mammals case. He rubs his forehead as he flips page after page, reading every report from the missing person report of the first to disappear- one of the mayor's bodyguards, all the way to Hopps's report from the press conference.

Setting the file aside, he opens the next, the Savage Predator Terror, as it had been publicly named, internally the ZPD referred to it as one of the biggest shitshows that could have spiraled out of control. Over two hundred hate crimes, ranging from vandalism to murder, five riots, a dozen or so protests, millions of dollars in total cost. Bogo was glad that Hopps and that _idiot_ Wilde had brough Bellwether down, and that she was now on death row for several dozen terror charges.

The next file, Ximetz. The folder that Cameron had provided, consisting of Ximetz's many many warrants, the death certificates of Officer Murphy, Ximetz, and the Victims in Zootopia, Bogo was not in the slightest saddened that the lunatic wasn't behind bars, and was instead cremated and his ashes dumped somewhere unimportant.

The last file, never brought to the media's attention, never brought to the light of day after the file was closed and placed in the drawer, this was the first MIR in that drawer for the two year period.

_A year and a half prior, two months prior to Judy Hopps enrolling in the ZPA_

"Settle down!" Bogo booms, the officers in the room settling down. Bogo scans the room, finding the enthusiastic faces of all of his officers, except one. Officer Blitzen was the brunt of most jokes in the department since his enrollment, the reindeer barely got accepted to Precinct One, and had messed up slightly on his first few days, leading to the other officers teasing him constantly. He had taken the jokes, never lashing back out. Bogo did nothing to stop them, he drew the line at threatening or harassing, but jokes were fine, if Blitzen would file a complaint that would change, but that was yet to happen.

Bogo listed all the assignments, eventually just leaving Blitzen and another one of Blitzens classmates, Prancer, a fellow reindeer but more liked by the fellow officers, he was the worst to Blitzen.

"Prancer, Blitzen, parking duty." The Chief didn't like to assign parking duty unless it was a punishment or it was a new recruit with nobody to assign them to, but all the other cases were taken and no veh-

"Why am I being paired with the fuckup!" Prancer yells, a few of the recently departed officers overhearing and stopping to listen.

"Officer Prancer, there is no oth-"

"HES A USELESS TOOL! HELL HE WILL PROBABLY FUCK UP GIVING SOMEONE A PARKING TICKET, I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU ALLOW HIM TO REMAIN HERE, SEEING AS HE'D BE BETTER WORKING SOMEWHERE THAT SUITS HIM, THE MENTAL ASYLUM FOR INSTSNCE!" The rant continues.

Bogo grew angrier and angrier as the rant went on, this wasn't joking, it was full out disrespect and slander. He began to open his mouth to reply, the words beginning to leave his mouth. "Officer Pra-"

***BANG***

Prancer fell to the floor, the bullet having passed through his skull, back to front, the bullet imbedded somewhere in the wall behind Bogo, his face in pure shock, looking at the shooter.

"Blitzen, lower the weapon." The Chief says in a low yet authoritarian voice, the door trying to open, but being locked, procedure.

Blitzen held his service pistol in a shaking hand, mumbling something under his breath as he turns the gun in his hand, looking at it.

"Officer. Set down the weapon." Bogo continues, his voice calming in nature, Bogo knew the look in the officer's eyes, he was mad, and seeing the presumably dead Prancer infront of the Chief, he wasn't about to anger Blitzen.

Blitzen looked the Chief in the eyes, the door still trying to be forced open, tears welling in his eyes, there wasn't a look of anger, there was one of sorrow, regret. The Chief could do nothing as in one calculated yet shaky motion, Blitzen raised the pistol, resting it against his temple.

"BLI-"

***BANG***

The door was finally forced open, McHorn quickly taking stock of the situation, Bogo did nothing as he stood frozen in shock, the blood mess infront of him.

_Present Day_

Two dead officers, one murdered, not without cause, but certainly avoidable, the other by their own hand. Bogo has immediately stated that teasing of fellow officers was to be stopped at once, and if any officer reported another for such acts it would be dealt with brutally.

Bogo lowers his head as he thinks about how the rules are suddenly forgotten when it was heard a rabbit was assigned to Precinct one, even he joined in. The second Hopps 'resigned' he had brought the hammer down, he had since removed six officers for such acts.

"_Chief!_" The radio on the desk crackles, Clawhouser's voice cutting into the silence.

"Yes Clawhouser?" Bogo replies, setting the files into a drawer on the desk, locking it and placing the key in his pocket.

"_Precinct 4 just called, said that they had two officers of ours detained._" He continues, Bogo having an unimpressed look on his face when Clawhouser was finished.

-0-

"Ohhhhhhhh, what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning..." Logan slurs, getting, somehow managing to keep his ragtag quartet of holding cell inmates to sing in harmony, I rub my forehead, seeing Shawn wrap an arm around Logan and the other around the coyote on his other side.

I rub the now subsiding welt on the back of my skull, planning my revenge for the two of them.

_Half an Hour Ago_

"Shawn, Logan, get down from there!" I yell, shaking my fist at the two climbing a radio tower.

"COME AND GET US OLD MAN!" Logan yells back down, Shawn tossing a half filled beer bottle at me.

"I'm five years younger then you!" I respond, dodging the bottle, which smashes on the asphalt.

Logan responds by sticking out his tounge and blowing like a kindergartener.

_Jesus feckin Christ, if I make it to the Bog tonight I'm going to get tips from Olivia on how to manage these two._

My thoughts are interrupted by a police klaxon sounding behind me, I turn to find a police cruiser, although I don't recognize the officers inside.

"What's going on here?" The driver of the cruiser asks.

"Well you see, when they said they wanted to look at the stars from up here, I thought they meant sit on the trunk of the car and look up, not climb the damn tower to look." I explain, taking a step to the side as I hear another bottle whistle through the air.

"How many bottles do they have?" The other Officer asks, to which I just shrug.

I open my mouth to reply, taking a step to avoid another whistle, finding myself having moved into the path of the bottle after it smashes over the back of my head. By the time I hit the ground I'm already out cold.

_The Present_

I clutch the pillow tighter around my head as the quartet starts up again, I curse the manufacturers of beer that they know so many sea shanties.

I hear the electronic buzz of the cell block door opening, to which I raise my head slightly, still holding the pillow over my ears. I find a very unhappy looking Bogo standing next to the officers that had responded to the radio tower.

"Evening Chief, here for the great entertainment?" I ask, walking over to the bars and slightly releasing the pillow from my ears, wincing at the lights.

"Has he been checked for a concussion?" Bogo asks the officer to his left, to which the officer just shrugs.

"Sir, I will accept parking duty for a month if you can get me out of this cell, doesn't even have to be release, just somewhere I can get rid of this headache." I plea, still not realizing I probably have a concussion.

Bogo just sighs, waiving a hoof over at the criminal quartet. Who are going through "A Drunken Sailor" again.

"Sir, excuse my French but I have zero fucking idea."

-0-

The bullpen, the room where the day started, otherwise it was usually empty, but at this present moment it contained two mammals, Arron Wolford and Laura Fangmeyer.

"I mean, what are the odds that were the only couple in this Precinct?" Arron asks, Laura instantly begins averting her attention, to which Arron picks up on.

"Who and how long have you known?" He grumbles, sitting on one of the tables in the front of the room.

"Nick and Judy." She replies, sitting on the desk opposite Wolford.

His face just obtains a look that reads 'you're shutting me' as he stares at her, mind racing. "Nick and Judy is a given, I mean they don't even hide it anymore."

"The only 'evidence' for any others is a conversation Cameron overheard, but he was drunk and was singing karaoke." She says as she pulls out a notepad and tosses it to him.

"What was he singing?" He asks as he reads the scribbled note.

"Rock the Casbah and he nailed it, but not the point, the point is we have nothing to fear about bringing our relationship public, I mean half the city probably knows by now."

Unbeknown to the two lovers chatting in the bullpen, Wolford's mic was stuck on.

"_Also have you seen the way Bogo glances at Ben sometimes, I think it's the best!_

_I know! It's like they're meant for each other._"

Cameron and Logan just stared at each other as the conversation turned away from the chatting pair, both of them distinctly aware to the door on the third floor that just opened. Cameron slowly raised to his feet, inching his way towards the office door.

"_Also Jessica and Sydney! Yea that was the one Cameron mentioned!_

_Yeaaaaa, that makes sense, no wonder their __such good friends am I right?_"

Clawhouser's jaw was already on the floor, the only possible way for it to go further down was for the floor to cave out beneath him. His attention quickly turned upwards as four different mammals entered the atrium, all darting towards the bullpen.

Cameron tried to take a corner at the end of the hall of offices, instead loosing his balance and sliding several feet into the atrium on his back before slowly picking himself up with a few pained groans. Jessica and Sydney burst through the front doors, Jessica helping Cameron back to his feet as they bear down apon the bullpen. The elevator doors also opened, stepping out and giving Clawhouser a knowing look, Bogo turned towards the bullpen, where the other three officers were impatiently waiting for him.

-0-

"Man, we should probably get back to work, we've been talking here for a little while." Aaron comments, looking at the watch lazily resting on his left wrist.

"Yea, Hey your radio looks a bit snagged." Laura replies, adjusting the radio on his vest, both of them oblivious to the open door and four mammals watching them.

The clearing of someone's throat alerted the two to the others presence, their faces a multitude of images, ranging from annoyance on Cameron's, to fury, the fire in Bogo's eyes burning a hole in Laura's skull.

"Ahhhh. Shit."

-0-

The cheesy 80s rock playing over the speakers of the bar was one thing, the fact that it was the underground of Zootopia's favourite bar was another.

The mammal that entered the bar was quickly analyzed by the bar's patrons, deemed uninteresting and faded into the bar with everyone else. But they were wrong. Ohhhh boy how they were wrong.

"Attention Everyone." Came the voice over the speakers, the music cutting out just in time. The attention of the bar was now on the mammal, dressed in a simple black and white dress at the end of the bar, on _top_ of the bar stood the speaker.

"Did you miss me?" Said Dawn Bellwether, the smug grin on her face one to-

***BANG***

Dawn's body hit the floor with a thump, the bullet having traveled clear through her chest, she was dead before she even knew she'd been shot.

The shooter stand up from her seat, setting the gun on the bar as she digs through several pockets in her suit, eventually finding a wallet and setting a banded was of cash on the bar where Bellwether once stood.

"Apologies for the mess, that bitch had to go. Had a few marks on her head as well as I really wanted to do that." She says to the stunned bartender. "Oh I'm sorry, where are my manners, the name's Widowmaker."

"Is that a pun on th-"

"YES ITS A PUN!"

————————

_Characters:_

_Cameron Robertson - Arctic Wolf, Officer at Precinct One_

_Shawn Hangler - Grey Fox, ER Trauma Surgeon at Zootopia General Hospital, Cameron's best friend and roommate_

_Logan White - Dingo, Officer at Precinct one - Cameron's partner in crime (law)_

_Olivia Chow - Kangaroo, owner of the Grog Bog bar, Logan's girlfriend._

_Oswald (Ozzie, Oz, The Wizard of Oz) - Tasmanian Devil, bouncer for the Grog Bog, and one mysterious motherfucker._

_Assorted Others (Mainly friends of the characters listed above) - Paris, Ethan (RIP), Jessica, Sydney, Pulezo_


	11. Revalations

_I'm not dead. Not yet atleast, school hit me like a truck, it being my Senior year, I really can't screw it up. Anywho, new chapter._

The Galla Galery (Creative, I know) was the highest ranked art gallery on the West Coast, housing dozens of peices by both old and new. It had the top of the line security system that nobody would dare test, and had four of the best security guards in the state. And someone was about to test their luck.

The two SUVs rolling to a stop left their engines running as the ten mammals that were inside disembark, the marching boots they were wearing leaving a single line in the gravel as they approach the building.

"Ready?" The mammal at the front says, taking a small diamond and taping it to the glass doors of the gallery before raising a hammer.

He gets a nod from each mammal, assorted items or weapons in all of their hands, a swing of the hammer shatters the glass, a shout of "Thirty!" goes out, the mammals rushing through, darting through the museum.

Three of the mammals screech to a hault outside of the security office, the largest kicking the door down before the trip barge in, leaving two guards dead and another two incapacitated.

"ITS DOWN!" Comes from one of them, the other two rushing out of the office.

"ONLY PAINTINGS, IF THEY GO TOGETHER MAKE AURE YOU GET BOTH!" Yells another reminder, a mammal going from painting to painting, removing them from the wall and handing them off to another who runs them out to the waiting vehicles.

"THEY GOT THE SILENT ALARM BEFORE WE CAPPED THEM, T MINUS ONE EIGHTY!" Comes another yell, the masked mammals pace increasing slightly.

Another minute passes, pairings being removed from the walls stopping as the vehicles become filled. A whistle goes out and the mammals drop what they have and dart for the exit, jumping into the vehicles. One of them lags behind, trying to drag a sculpture.

"GAVIN DROP IT!" Yells the driver of one of the SUVs, the clang of metal on concrete as the sculpture is dropped and the final mammal gets in the SUV.

-0-

"Fourty priceless paintings stolen, this is what ZNN has gathered from the overnight robbery of the Galla. Three security guards were killed and one remains in surgery this hour. That's all for now, back to you in the studio."

Cameron's morning consisted of sitting at the perimeter, making sure no reporters tried to slip through the barricade.

Luckily Cameron's replacement arrived, allowing him to go and get some breakfast and to get to Bogo's briefing. As he climbs the hill he has to put on his sunglasses to dim the glare of the sun rising over the hills.

"Someone's not looking their best this morning." He hears from his right, finding Logan with a McDonalds coffee in his hand.

"Thanks, were lucky that I got Delgado to take your place while you got coffee. You seen inside yet?" Cameron asks, taking the coffee and taking a long drink.

"Yep, it's as reported, they shattered the front door with a diamond and a hammer, rushing in, three of them took out the security office while the rest got to work on the art." He replies as they stroll towards the building.

As they get closer to the building they begin to notice more details in the sun, such as the skid marks on the pavement from a vehicle skidding to a stop.

"ALL OFFICERS FALL IN!" Comes Bogo's billowing voice from a corner of the parking lot where the command center was parked.

The gaggle of officers gathers around the trailer, where Bogo was standing.

"Allright, were all here so let's get everyone updated... The calling card found on a wall inside confirms that this was a group called the AH crew. Anyone know of them."

Cameron raises a hand, a dissapointed look on his face.

"As you can tell by Robertson's face, we're dealing with the best of the best. Its a group of ten. They primaries operate in and around Texas, hitting banks, art galleries, jewelry stores, once they loaded a port-o-potty full of stolen gold and smuggled it out of the county. They're professionals, and they've now moved shop from the south to the West, they've hit fifteen targets from San Diego to Portland since July, average of one every three weeks is their usual, so this is unusual."

"So do we have descriptions?" Judy asks from somewhere in the front.

"Detailed lists are being sent to all of your emails, but the fastest I can list them are, ahem: Geoff, Ram. Jack, Brown bear. Ryan, Timberwolf. Michael, Red Fox. Gavin, Red Deer. Jeremy, Horse. Lindsay, lioness. Trevor and Alfredo, Mexican wolves. Matt, desert cottontail."

"So, what's their MO?"

"Honestly, not a damn clue, they are erratic, sometimes doing heists without a death, sometimes clearing a building out and burning it to the ground. They rotate leaders of the heists, some of them are less... predictable then others and you can tell by the plans."

"Is the story that they're undead true?" Nick shouts out, getting socked in the arm by Judy.

"Yes there are reports that when a member of the crew is killed, their body disappears without a trace and the same member is present in the next job. But don't let superstition guide you. Dismissed."

The gathered officers scatter into their groups to discuss the information, everyone beginning to shiver in a cold wind that descended on them during the briefing.

"I can wrap you in my shirt if you want." Cameron comments, Sydney hurtled with Logan, Sydney, Nick, and Judy.

"Less taunting, more discussing... So you know who we're dealing with?" Judy asks, shivering in the cold.

"Mhm, they were going up and down the east coast while I was in the military. Most memorable one I can think of is when I was on vacation in Panama City Beach and they hit the port in Panama City, made off with the contents of several shipping containers seemingly chosen at random, came out it was an assortment of military gear, engines, and copper tubing. Engines could be resold at market value, copper tubing melted down and sold as scrap, and the military hardware sold to the highest bidder. It was one of their, "no issue" heists, got in and out without alerting the guards that were still alive and got the loot on several boats and hightailed it."

-0-

"Gavin. What the fuck?"

The deer just smiles as he hangs from the roof, his legs caught in the Christmas lights that were strung along the rafters inside the large warehouse.

"Are you going to help me down Michael?" He asks.

"Nah, I'm going to take a picture and leave." The fox replies honestly, pulling out a phone and taking a picture of the stuck mammal before continuing his walk past rows and rows of shelves stacked with paintings, gold bars, jewelry, American Currency and Pesos, and any other valuable object that one could steal.

After walking the distance, he comes to a brown bear seated behind a desk, glasses on his nose as he records every object being carried by him by horse and pair of wolves.

"Score was a massive success, according to Ryan and Geoffs predictions we can flip the paintings after a year, in the meantime the values will skyrocket due to their theft." He informs, filing his paperwork in a row of filing cabinets behind him.

"Storing then here or are we shipping them off to grey sites?" Michael asks.

"Here, ZPD is arguably the best police force in the city, we went getting any paintings out of this city without them finding out, can't go to the mob or the cartels to smuggle either, they've already declared hands off unless we sell. Also is Gavin hanging from the rafters over there?"

"Mhm, got wrapped in the lights he was stringing somehow."

Up in an office overlooking the building, three mammals sit around a table, looking over documents and sheets of paper.

"Alright, it's probably safe to move those gold bars we got from the federal reserve in January, that cash from that bank in the sticks as well. Cash gets laundered through the regular sources, gold gets turned into cheap rings and sold at pawn shops north of the Canadian border." The cottontail rabbit on the desk says, circling items on the pages with a marker.

"It worth it to sell them up north?" A Timberwolf asks.

"Ryan, we cant sell everything to the same five stores for two months, North of the border we have dozens of shops from Vancouver to Winnipeg that we can just take a trip up, dump the gold, declare the income and move along." The ram at the head of the table says, looking at the documents he eyes a few items. "The three paintings we got from that private collector in Sacramento have finally come off the watchlist, should be able to put em up on the usual sites and be rid of them."

"You'd think so, but I've been watching the cops pattern, every time we hit somewhere with art, they go and look through all the paintings we've taken that are unaccounted for, silently watching for them, it's how Gavin almost got punched and Ray got capped."

"Oh yeah, I'm getting old."

"Retire then, get a nice house somewhere like New Zealand and be happy in your old age." Ryan comments, taking a sip of coffee.

"As if, I'm riding this train till I die, I'm in it for the thrill at this point."

-0-

Traffic cameras had been little help, the vehicles had pulled several trucks, managing to be lost as they went from the outskirts of the meadowlands into Tundra Town, so now they had one of the largest districts in the city to find the vehicles and art. But unfortunately, the gods of luck were not awake.

Cameron looks up, the telltale rumbling something he'd had the displeasure of hearing once before on a ski trip in the Rockies. "AVALANCHE!" He yells as loud as he can, sprinting behind Logan from their parked cruiser towards the tunnels and carved out shops in the side of the mountain. As the rumbling gets louder and louder Logan bursts through the doors of a shop, Cameron hot on his heels as chunks of snow begin impacting the street.

They were lucky in their current location, patrolling a ski village along the side of the mountain, the majority of the buildings were carved into the mountain itself, saving the lives of those inside, though trapping them. This was the same senario as the pair of officers press themselves in the back of the shop along with the staff and several customers, as the rumbling reaches its peak and the noise gets the loudest the natural light that once filled the store gets cut away, leaving the shops internal lighting casting a warm glow over the shop.

A few seconds after the rumbling stops Cameron and Logan venture towards the front of the shop to find what they expected, that they were buried underneath a few tones of snow.

"Well. That's not ideal." Logan quips, scanning the shop for the first time.

"Yeah, cruiser is probably crushed." Cameron adds, strolling over to the staff that begin to mill around. "Landline?"

"Yea it's behind the counter, hit nine to get to external numbers." One of the staff replies, pointing to the counter towards the front of the shop.

The designers of the stores had invisioned scenarios like this, and had wired all water, power, and telecommunications underground, allowing them to work even if the occupants were trapped. Cameron picks up the phone, hitting nine before dialing 911.

"911, what's your emergency?" The operator asks.

"Mhm, yeah this is Z-169, avalanche at the twin peaks ski resort, Z-168 is trapped with me inside a store, sounded like a big one." Cameron informs, scratching his head as he looks at the snow.

"Understood, search and rescue teams are already en route, any injuries to report?"

"Anyone injured?" Cameron asks aloud, getting a response of a small cut but nothing else. "Nothing we cant deal with a first aid kit."

"Understood, prepare for the long haul, it's swept over the climbing road all the way down to the snow break."

Cameron hangs up, sighing as he takes in the contents of the store.

"Exploration gear, damn how lucky are we?" Logan comments, holding up tools.

"Toss me a shovel, ima go prove to see how much snow were under."

"Why you?"

"Because this has happened to me before."

"In a store?"

"Nope, on skis. Stuck for about twenty minutes, blacked out from all the blood running to my head after ten minutes upside down, woke up in an air ambulance." He explains, grabbing a shovel and an ice pick and going to the front doors.

There was a good four or five feet between the glass of the shop and where the snow began, giving Cameron an area to move the displaced snow. He begins chipping away at it, shovel by shovel moving the snow in a small colllum. Inch by inch he moves the snow from the collum to the floor, where Logan and one of the store employees bucket it and dump it down a sink.

After a while he finally breaks to the surface, being passed a pair of snow shoes and some flares by the mammals below him, he ventures slightly away from the mountain, glancing down the slope from as close as he dares to find the rescue crews about three quarters of the way up the covered roads, with a helicopter patrolling he rest.

He strikes two flares, holding one in each hand as he waves them, the red smoke being released attracting the attention of the heli, which lowers a rescue worker down to him.

"Howdy, hows you get up here?" She asks, scanning the area.

"Dig up, it's about fourteen feet deep at the cliff, probably mammals in each shop."

"Any major injuries?"

"None that we know of, haven't been able to get in contact with any of the other shops, I've just been digging up, we can probably use the landlines to find out." Cameron infroms as he walks back over to the hole.

"LOGAN!"

" 'ere!" He yells back, his head peaking into view.

"Toss me up a rope and use that landline to contact the other shops."

"On it."

"You have rope down there?" The rescuer asks.

"Ran into a exploration store. Dumb luck really. Grabbed a shovel and started to dig my way out."

"MATE TAKE THE ROPE IM FREEZING MY ASS OFF DOWN HERE!" Logan yells, the rope being tossed out of the hole and onto the snow.

-0-

I look out the window of my office, the mass of news vans and reporters gathered outside the emergency room was pissing me off, ever since Ximetz I'd become extremely cautious at work about who's coming and going.

The current issue on my plate was the death certificates of a dozen mammals unfortunate enough to not have been able to get inside before the avalanche earlier in the day. The causes of death were almost identical, expected and understandably unavoidable, blunt force trauma, asphyxiation, and hypothermia were what the medical examiner had declared, now it was left to me to sign, photocopy, and file all of them.

The job wasn't bad just because I was literally declaring people legally dead, but because it was time consuming, I had to go along and match every name and bit of information with the mammal, then sign it and finish.

I was happily finished with the time consuming part, getting the twelve documents into a neat stack and standing from my desk, strolling towards the door. Closing it behind me I leisurely walk over to the nurses desk, passing the documents over as they had me a case file.

"Eleven year old lion, broken arm and numerous bruses. Yeesh rough day." I say, reading the file.

"Father said he fell down the stairs as he was getting ready for school." Alice explains.

"Father with him?"

"No, father had to go to work, said he would be back on his lunch break."

"Jeez, I'd rather be yelled at by my boss then leave my kid at the ER." I comment as I walk away, matching the file number to the treatment room.

Scanning the room with several beds, I find a half dozen mammals, the kid at the far end with Pulezo entertaining him. I pass a moose with a biker jacket on that was in with a stab wound he said happened when he fell in the kitchen, which nobody believed, but hey ho.

"Hey Johnithan, how are we feeling?" I ask the kid, sitting down on a stool and rolling over to his bedside.

"Not good. It hurts." He states, somewhat hunkering in his seat.

"Well you're in good hands, we'll get you feeling better soon. I just need to have a word with Pulezo and I'll be right back with you." I inform cheerfully.

Pulezo follows me out of the room, finding my face when we get out of earshot one of rage.

"Ima guess you ran the parents names." He asks.

"Yep, mothers a drug addict, currently unemployed, father is an alcoholic, three calls to their house in the past year, every time they insisted everyone was fine and there was no issue." I say, looking down the hall to find Jessica and Sydney with rage in their eyes.

"Detectives, how nice to see you." Pulezo says, somewhat puzzled of why they're here.

"That the kid in there?" Jessica asks, pointing into the treatment room.

"Mhm, I'm guessing you got wind of the situation." I inquire.

"Cameron mentioned it to us after they dug Logan and him out." Jessica replies, going into the treatment room.

"Parents here yet?" Sydney asks.

"Fathers at 'work', no clue where the mother is." Pulezo says.

"Man this just makes my blood boil, I'm just glad I'm in civilian clothes instead of the uniform, wouldn't be god to beat the shit out of someone wearing that."

"You're still on the clock though, so you'd still have to make a report." I point out.

"Youve got me there."

"So Jessica's good with kids?" I ask, looking through the long window to find Jessica entertaining the cub.

"Yeah, I got no clue why, just real good with kids in the way that Cameron's good at talking people down from the brink, you just have talents that others don't."

"Now Cameron's good with those cases because he actually does know what they're going through. Went through a real dark patch in his early twenties. Lost his dad to a drunk driver, got laid off, and dumped in the same month. Military had police check in on his well-being after he didn't leave his place for two months."

"Wait laid off from the military?"

"No, he was in the reserves to pay for university, then worked at Lowe's to get some spending money."

"So how'd he deal with it?"

"Ironically weed. After three months of sucking around at home he started using cannabis infused gum to help him relax, his brother got him a therapist, and over the next three years he pulled himself out of the pit, wasn't fully 'recovered' but he was classified as high functioning till about two years ago when his doctor ended the meds he was taking, he stopped using the gum, and he now sporadically visits a therapist here."

"How dark he get?"

"Ehhh, I'm only telling you this as a medical professional. If I was his doctor, At the end of the first month I'd have had him put in medical custody on suicide watch if I was his doctor, but he pulled through. He described the second to third months as him just 'existing', he was in a state of 'it is what it is' wasn't going to throw himself off the roof, but he wouldn't have been unhappy with being hit by a truck."

"Sorry to cut Cameron's life story short, but parents at twelve o'clock." Pulezo intrudes, probably for the best as we were talking about the mental health of one of our friends.

Pulezo puts himself between the Parents and the treatment room, hands respectfully behind his back. I simply hold myself to the side, keeping Sydney out of the line of fire.

"Are you Eric's parents?" Pulezo asks politely.

"Yeah, where is he, it's time for him to come home." The father says, the mother staring off into the distance, probably high as a kite.

"Unfortunately his cast is still setting, it will take another hour or two before he is able to be released." Pulezo lies through his teeth, waiting for someone to make their move.

"Now I'm his father, so I get to say what happens to my son, now are you going to tell me where he is or do I have to beat it out of you?" The father asks, getting in Pulezo's face and raising a fist.

"I request you to refrain from threatening me, and if you attempt to force my information I will have to ask you to leave."

"Should I step in?" Sydney asks, looking worried.

"Wait for it." I simply say.

The father moves forward, going to grab Pulezo by the collar. Pulezo counters this by grabbing the fathers wrist and twisting, spinning him around and pushing him away from him. "I must ask you to leave sir. Ma'am if you refrain from physically attacking me you may stay." He states, rolling his sleeves up. A janitor who sees this action from Pulezo quickly pulls his phone out and hides around a corner, beginning to film.

"Come here you fucker!" The dad yells, charging Pulezo.

Pulezo straightarms the lion, grabbing the collar of his shirt and using the momentum to spin the mammal into the cinderblock wall. As the mammal leaves Pulezo's grasp, his claws levae long scratches down the length of Pulezo's arm. Pulezo closes the distance while the father is still stunned, delivering a fist to the chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs, this is quickly followed by a knee jab to the crotch. As the father hunches over in pain, Pulezo grabs the back of his head with both hands, forcing it downwards into his rising knee, the impact auditably revealing the breaking of bones and causes the lion to crumple down sideways, out cold with a stream of blood steadily streaming from his nose.

Pulezo takes a few steps back, letting two other nurses deal with the unconscious mammal, rolling his sleeves back down he turns to the mother. "You are both restricted from seeing your child due to the suspicion of child abuse, a detective from the ZPD will be out shortly to inform you of what happens next." He states, walking back over to us.

"Uh that was..." Sydney begins, failing to find the right words.

"Yeah forgot to mention Pulezo was a medic in the SEALS." I inform, seeing a nurse down the hall erase the 28 on a whiteboard and replace it with a zero.

"Oh."

"So you feel good?" I ask Pulezo.

"Not bad, not bad. I'm going to go get these scratches treated, consitering the guys an alcoholic I dunno what's on his claws."

_Later._

"_When I get high, I get high on speed, Top fuel funny car's a drug for me..._" The song begins, the bass rattling the change in a cup holder as I rocket down the highway, the 105 was the perfect route for my A to B trip, when it was done, I could just get back on the highway and put distance between me and the destination as fast as possible.

Eyeing my speedometer I decide to pull back a bit, not needing a felony speeding charge. Lowering my revs by a thousand the car begins to slow, not a moment too soon as I realize I almost missed my exit, cutting across two lanes I get back down to ground level, spying my destination a street or two away.

This part of the rainforest district was the nicknamed 'the strip' for a good reason, much like Vegas, when the city was expanding in the mid 60s, casinos built here were absorbed into the city with the agreement that they would pay much less tax then normal, of course they were also skimming money to the mob and mafia, but they had almost all stopped.

I park my car, getting out and beginning to walk across the empty parking lot towards one of the older casino-hotel buildings, passing a mirror I do a once over of my suit, a simple black jacket over a dark blue shirt. Crossing the casino floor, I remove a keycard from my pocket and pass through a staff door, quickly coming to an elevator. Taking the ride up several floors, I use the time I have to send Cameron a text to ask what he wants me to pick up for dinner.

As soon as the doors open, two polar bears in suits eye me from the end of the hall. I stroll towards them, allowing them to frisk me as I pass them. Going through the door behind them, I enter a large office overlooking the casino floor.

"Dr. Hagler, so nice to see you." Mr. Big says from behind his desk, another few polar bears throughout the office.

"Likewise sir, shall we get down to buisness?" I ask, taking the seat opposite him.

"We shall." He smiles, snapping his fingers and having several files laid infront of him.


End file.
